Another Life
by jjbird
Summary: Jack's needed back in New York on a case and what happens when he returns. J/S all the way. Set AU if Jack had gone to Chicago with his family.
1. Not my kind of town

**Another Life**.

by **jjbird**

Rated T

Disclaimer: Definately not my characters or showetc, butitis fun to play.

Spoilers: Some working knowledge of Season 3 is good.

A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely Mariel, who is always spot on with her advice, and to my fellow fanfic writers, especially the J/S shippers, who are still keeping the faith...This A.U. begins after Season 2, you'll get the idea.

* * *

The phone rang. He picked it up on the second ring. "Jack Malone speaking."

"Jack, it's Vivian, how are you?" asked the voice from the not too distant past. Six and a half months past to be exact.

"Viv! How the hell are you?"

"Fine, fine. How's Chicago treating you?"

"Great, go Cubs rah-rah and all that, but I just grin and bear it." He eased back into his chair, smiling.

"You got that right. Love to chat, but we need your help with a case."

"I'm listening and it's your dime."

"It's going to be more than a dime; we need you back here to help with it as it's related to an old one of yours, can't do it via email."

"In New York? Aaaaah, okay," Jack flipped through his day planner. "I think I can manage-."

"I've already spoken to your supervisor and it's not a problem. You'll fly out tonight, so you'll have Friday and the weekend if you need it. Then we'll see."

Jack raised his eyebrows as he listened. "Okay. I'll need to check with Maria." He was not looking forward to that conversation one bit.

"I'll send the flight details through to you. Really appreciate this Jack."

_You really have no idea how much _I_ appreciate this_, thought Jack. "Sounds great. Be good to catch up with the team again. See you tonight maybe?"

"I'll try and pick you up at the airport, but it looks like there's going to be another case going on. Not sure."

Vivian rang off; leaving Jack delighted and intrigued as he replaced the phone in its cradle. He looked up to see his supervisor bearing down on him.

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" Gianelli asked, with a touch of a sneer. "You been pulling strings or something?"

Jack crossed his arms and stared at him. He disliked Gianelli intensely. "For your information, you knew about this before I did. Robertson can cover for me. It'll just be a few days, and mostly my weekend."

"I'll sign off on it, but I'm not impressed," Gianelli said bitterly as he walked off.

_Like I really care_, thought Jack, watching him go. A few days without that young asshole to contend with would be a holiday indeed. He glanced around the office; Robertson was pointedly ignoring him. Anywhere but here would be wonderful.

He pulled open a drawer in his desk and took out a photo. It was the team, taken at an office party. Vivian's birthday maybe? Vivian was in the center, with Martin and Danny framing her. Jack and Samantha were on the ends. It was a safe photo, and the only one he had of himself and Samantha almost together. He sighed, remembering, and returned the picture to the drawer.

He picked up the phone.

Did he and Maria have plans for tonight? For the life of him he couldn't remember.

He hit the speed dial for Maria's office.

xx--

Jack sat on the edge of the bed with a large brown envelope, given to him by the driver who had met him at LaGuardia. Vivian had been unable to meet him due to the new case. He was neither concerned nor bothered; that was the nature of the job.

The driver had delivered him in good time to the standard FBI hotel room, not far from Federal Plaza. Rather than read the case file while traveling, Jack had chosen to enjoy the city lights. He felt like a tourist, revisiting a city he loved, and he did love New York.

He opened the envelope and pulled the file out, his eyes fixating on the name. He silently whistled. So this was the man they were looking for. _Well, well._

This old case held bittersweet memories.

This case had one very good reason to be etched upon his mind.

He riffled through the pages. How interesting that this had brought him back to New York and that this man was a missing person.

He looked toward the window, his thoughts straying, wondering what Samantha thought about this. He winced at the thought; probably she had forgotten, or didn't care.

He made himself more comfortable on the bed, mentally detached himself to focus, and began to read.

There wasn't much there. Emerson had left for work athis accountancy firm and not turned up. His wife, the second Mrs. Emerson, had been out of town for a few days, so hadn't know he was missing until she'd returned. He'd been gone at least 48 hours before she had reported him gone. Seems they'd had a fight, so she hadn't missed talking to him. The bulk of the envelope had been the files pertaining to the earlier case, and Jack remembered the details fairly well.

After a while he put the notes down, rubbed his eyes, and got up to look out the window at the city.

He missed New York.

He missed his old job, and the team.

He was missing his daughters.

And he realized something else; he sure as hell wasn't missing Maria.


	2. TV time

xx--

Samantha sat in her big comfy armchair, idly surfing through the TV channels. Jack was going to be arriving late, so there was no point in hanging around the office.

She let out a deep sigh. So: Jack was making a guest appearance finally. It'd been bound to happen sooner or later. She had accepted the fact that he had gone to Chicago, with his wife and kids. It was a fairly large fact to ignore.

Things had happened while he was gone; Martin, for one. Then there wasn't Martin, for two; that was the way life went. She had been surprised being dumped like that. She was glad she hadn't gone out and bought clothes for the special occasion of officially meeting the Fitzgeralds. Being dumped by Martin hadn't hurt as much as Jack leaving her, either after their affair, or when he announced he was going to Chicago. Those times had been much worse.

She had gotten used to missing Jack, and then she'd remember that she had forgotten to think of him, with a twinge of guilt. She would then be bothered by why it bothered her.

She sighed again, and continued her flicking on the remote. As usual, a million channels and nothing to watch. Flick, flick.

Yesterday, when Vivian had first pondered consulting Jack about the case, Samantha had nearly gasped aloud, delighted, but had coolly covered her reaction. She had nodded and said it was a good idea. Her internal reaction had bothered her then too. She had noticed the sideways look Martin gave her. Bastard.

There shouldn't be any feelings left for Jack. She was all cried out and tired of men and relationships. When she had spoken to Jack in his office as he packed, she had got plenty of closure. Hooking up with Martin had also helped with that, but she regretted it now.

She stopped surfing and stared at the screen, not noticing what was on.

"Damn you Jack Malone, you are not going to mess up my life again," she said aloud, because saying things aloud made them real -she hoped.

She turned off the TV, and picked up the case file, and leafed through it again. Why did it have to be _this _case? She tossed the file on the floor, the pages scattering. It was bringing Jack back to New York, which was the only good thing about it.

She stared at the photo of the man they were seeking. She was determined to find him if only to resolve past wrongs; for her sake, for Jack's sake. And for the sake of a dead woman.

She looked away, wondering what Jack would think of this case being involved with the new one. He probably wasn't concerned about the significance it held for her. He had moved on, literally and figuratively.

She sighed and got up. It was time to iron a blouse for work. There was a blood red one she knew Jack liked, and a forest green one he had commented on one day. Once upon a time.

She shook her head, exasperated. He was inside her mind again. She slammed her hand down in frustration. _Damn it, damn it, damn it!_

_xx--_


	3. Another day at the office

**A/N:** Thanks as always to Mariel for her expert advice, even when on holiday!

xx--

Jack was scheduled to meet Vivian in her office at 8 a.m. He rose earlier than was necessary, so he could hit the street and enjoy the atmosphere of New York in the spring. He grabbed a coffee and bagel at one of his favorite haunts, and sat on a stool by the café window so he could watch the New Yorkers going about their daily business. Like he had used to.

He arrived at Vivian's office at 8 precisely.

Her door was open, and she was reading a file. He leant against the door frame. "I hate what you've done with place," he said casually, surveying the room.

"Well, the previous occupant had no idea how to decorate - just tragic," Vivian threw back, getting up to give him a welcome hug. "Great to have you back."

Jack smiled as he returned the hug. "Anytime. Hope I can be of some help," he said, settling into the chair in front of his -no- her desk. "How's the team?" Jack enquired, twisting around to get a look at the bullpen.

"Oh, the usual," smiled Vivian. "Getting used to the new boss."

"Same as the old boss?" Jack chuckled, enjoying himself.

Vivian raised an eyebrow at that. "Not quite. We have a new team member, Rosa. She's good, gives Samantha a run for her money."

Jack nodded. _That would be interesting_. "How are Marcus and Reggie?"

"Great. I don't know what I've done to deserve them; I wonder every day… How's Maria?"

"Fine, loving her new job. Chicago suits her, and the girls are slowly fitting in. It was a big change for them," _and me too_, he thought silently.

"Yeah, changes everywhere." Then Vivian narrowed her eyes imperceptibly. She knew him. "Jack, it's me here. I know we haven't kept in touch much, and I'm sorry for that but…are you happy there?" Typical Vivian, straight to the point.

Jack paused before answering. He wasn't, but he didn't want to admit it, not even to Vivian. He'd thought the move would patch things up with Maria, but he still had a job with crazy hours, and he could tell, after the initial flurry of moving had subsided, that things between them still weren't right. The break would do them both good, even though Maria was pretty pissed off at him for going back to NY. Also, he still found himself sleeping on the sofa more times than he would have liked, for one reason or another, but usually because of a fight. Things hadn't really changed. Happy wasn't the word he would use, if he was being honest with himself.

He shrugged. "It's okay, I'm working on it." It was the best answer he could or would give. "Anyway, still your dime…" he said, shifting attention back onto the case.

Vivian leaned back in her chair, playing with a pen. "I've been saving a bit on the budget for a rainy day, and so this seemed like a good time to use it. Danny, Martin and I are on a new case involving a bureaucrat from the Mayor's office; you and Samantha will be working on the Emerson case together. Rosa will be in the office, so you can use her when she's not helping us. It's the best distribution of resources we can do at the moment. Besides, you and Samantha were the original case agents on it, so it works out well enough." She gathered some papers and stood up. "We'll be in the bullpen. You two can use the table, a whiteboard, and my computer in here."

Jack smiled. "Sounds good." He rose and followed her out, resisting the urge to fall into his old routine and habits. This wasn't his show anymore, but the sheer atmosphere of being back was magnetic.

xx--

Danny nudged Samantha when he saw Jack going into Vivian's office. "Jack, the man in black, is back."

Samantha looked up and saw Jack's outline. "I'll bet you $10 he's not in black," she said, pointedly.

Danny squinted into the distance. "Make it $20. Jack won't be able to resist wearing it."

Samantha looked back at her computer screen. "He won't be wearing it today. Have your money ready, Taylor." _I know he'll wear something else_. She was trying very hard not to grin like an idiot.

xx--

The team was waiting for Vivian and Jack in the bullpen.

"Well, here he is," stated Vivian, standing aside.

Danny was the first to leap up to shake Jack's hand. "Only you could cost me $20! What color is this supposed to be?" He indicated Jack's dark, but definitely grey, suit.

"Gee, thanks Danny, it's good to see you too. Did you lose anything extra because of the blue tie?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't like this new trend, it's very disturbing." He slapped Jack on the shoulder, broadly grinning. "Great to have you here."

Martin was next. "Good to see you again, Jack. How's the family?" he asked a little formally, while shaking Jack's hand.

"Fine, thanks. How's yours?" asked Jack, wondering about the slight coolness.

"Always some drama happening, so no change there."

Seated behind him, Samantha rolled her eyes. He was right there. The whole family was a moneyed political freak show. She was beginning to realize how lucky she had been to escape.

Jack nodded politely, before turning to the rookie and introducing himself. "You must be Rosa."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Glad to meet you finally." Jack felt like he was being scrutinized under a microscope as he smiled back. _Bet Sam gives you a run for your money too._

One left. He suddenly remembered he had to breathe.

Samantha rose from her chair. "It's been far too long, Jack."

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

His hair was greyer.

She was blonder.

He looked slimmer.

She looked perfect.

He smiled and held out his hand. "Sam."

She glanced at the hand. "I don't think so," she muttered, taking the hand and pulling him in for a quick hug.

He had seen her golden head the minute he walked in, and tried not to focus on her. He didn't truly comprehend how much he had missed her -as a friend, as a colleague, and as a lover…well, he'd always missed that, and God knows it was hard to keep her at arms length all that time. This was not going to be as easy as he'd thought. Here he was, nearly drowning in the closeness of her, if only for a couple of seconds. _Oh shit._

She had been eyeing him the moment he came in with Vivian. How could he be more attractive than ever before? How was that possible? Why was she suddenly blown away? She felt ridiculous, like a schoolgirl with a crush again. Worse than that, she was sure everyone could see right through her. She had resolved to play it cool, immune to himand then had ruined it all by hugging him. Plus Martin was there watching them both like a hawk. _Damn it! _

Vivian took command. "Right, time to move people," she indicated the whiteboard. "This man's not going to be found without us. Jack and Samantha…"

Samantha picked up her carton of files. "Your office, got it," and set off. She would have run if she could.

Jack looked at the whiteboard, reading the missing bureaucrat's timeline. God, he missed this. All those years finding missing people, and now he was down the ladder, chained to a desk in the Government Fraud division, a sideways shift from Domestic Security. What had he been thinking? What the hell had happened to his life? _This_ is what he should be doing.

"Any openings in the Chicago office?" Vivian asked quietly by his shoulder.

Jack shook his head. "I've tried. They have my request for transfer, but it could be ages. You know I hate office politics; it seems inter-departmental ones are just as bad in Chicago as they are here." He looked at her and smiled warmly. "I'm glad for you. Nice to leave the team in good hands."

Vivian nodded, pleased. "Thanks, and you're damn right on that one."

Laughing, Jack patted her on the back. Glancing back over his shoulder at his former workmates as they went through their case, he went to join Samantha. _I miss this place_.

xx--

Jack sat down beside Samantha at the table, and stared at the paper chase she had spread out in front of her. He could smell her perfume, as fresh and crisp as the day outside.

"So…" he ventured.

Samantha squared up some files in front of her, deciding to start with work. "Never thought we'd be going over this case again." She paper shuffled some more, not really wanting to look him in the face.

Jack pursed his lips. "No. Maybe we can nail the son of a bitch this time."

"If we find him," she replied, holding up Emerson's photo. "This is the most recent one taken. I got it off his wife yesterday."

Jack pulled his chair closer to look at the picture. "He hasn't changed too much, just around the eyes. I'd recognise him in an instant." They'd certainly interviewed him enough to have him burned in their memories.

Samantha finally gave in and looked at him, a smile playing on her lips, his closeness sending a familiar tingle through her.

He smiled back. "What?"

"It's nice to have you back." She meant every word.

He looked down, fingering a file. "It's nice to be back."

She looked back at the table. "So, how is Chicago?"

"Windy."

"The girls?"

"Making new friends."

She had to ask _the_ question, for politeness' sake. "Maria?"

There was no answer; he was gazing into a file. She prodded his arm.

"Mm? Oh, yeah, she loves her new job," he replied automatically, keeping it as minimal as he could, and to change topic said, "I really want to find this guy. There are a few questions I'd like to ask him."

Samantha couldn't help but smile again, noticing the avoidance.

He got up and looked at the white board with Emerson's timeline on it. "Did Emerson have a large life insurance policy on himself or his second wife?"

"Like the first time? I asked his wife, Margaret, and she said she wasn't sure. I was going to check up on that today. She was going to look for some papers for us."

"Okay, and we have to move the timeline further back." Jack took a whiteboard marker and added some lines on the extreme left of the board. "This has to go right back to when we first met Steven Emerson."

"August 2001." Samantha filled in.

Jack nodded. Four years ago. It seemed just like yesterday. He swallowed, and, his voice a hint raw with old emotion, took a chance. "I still think about then, you know."

Surprised, Samantha nodded, then surprised herself by saying, "Me too."

xx--


	4. Back to the beginning

**A/N: **Thanks to all for the reviews, as my fellow writers know, they make our day... And Mariel, only a couple of tweaks incurred, I promise! Thanks for your help, as always.

xx--

August 2001

This wasn't how Samantha had imagined her first night with Jack would be.

It wouldn't involve a garish motel room off a road in the middle of nowhere.

It wouldn't have been so…so _angry _either.

Not that she'd spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like to make love, have sex, sleep, whatever, with Jack Malone; but recently, she had been spending _all_ her time wondering what it would be like. This was the first case with just the two of them. The long hours had thrown them together and she was totally smitten. It had been building up for some time. The looks. The 'accidental' touches. And now…

He had exhausted her, certainly. Fulfilled her in a completely carnal way. She'd been impressed. She couldn't help but wonder if she had been used as an outlet for his anger, and, although he tried to hide it, his grief. She was hoping against hope it wouldn't be the only time, but the enormity of the situation was just hitting home. Older. Married. Boss. It was about as attractive as it could be.

Jack had not imagined it like this, either. Thinking about it was one thing, acting on it another. He had been thinking about it and her longer than he realized, but hadn't really resolved to put any thoughts into action. But some things were unavoidable. Samantha certainly was unavoidable. He stared at the ceiling.

Seeing Julie Emerson's body in the car had nearly unhinged him. They'd arrived just before her body was being removed from the car. He was so tired from the long hours he and Samantha had spent searching for her, that when she'd been found like that, lifeless, yet peaceful, he hadn't known how to react.

Fighting with Maria over the lateness of the call that alerted him to the find didn't help either. He'd wanted to slam the door when he'd left, but hadn't wanted to wake the girls. He'd told her not to wait up, even though he'd known she wouldn't have anyway -it gave him some small satisfaction to say it. Some small gesture of control. She'd never understood his job, always distancing herself from the reality of it.

After the call and before the fight, he'd rung Samantha to tell her about Julie Emerson, and that he was going to the scene. She'd asked to go with him. He'd agreed, not surprised, and told her to bring a thermos of coffee. Picking her up, they'd driven an hour and a half in comfortable silence. Something else he liked about her. It was becoming a long list.

Julie Emerson had been found a long way from home, in some woods, and died a lonely death. It had been reported as suicide, but Jack knew better, staring at the car she'd been found in. It was a jigsaw puzzle he had solved before. Sometimes people gassed themselves in their car and succeeded. Sometimes they were interrupted before they could finish the job. And sometimes other people helped them along… Jack shook his head to clear it, and rubbed his eyes.

Jack had known that Steve Emerson had killed his wife and made it look like suicide; he could feel it in his bones. He was shaking so much with pent up emotions he could barely think straight. Could hardly hear Samantha saying it was time to go, it was out of their hands, to give her the keys, it was nearly midnight, get in the car.

He refocused again after twenty minutes of driving. Looking up and out the window he wondered where the hell they were. "Sam, did we come this way before?"

Samantha frowned. "Yes, this is the main road back…It's about an hour to go. You okay?" She was concerned for him. He'd gone strange like this after another similar case, where the victim had been gassed in a car. She wondered why, but knew better than to ask. Worried at his mood, she reached over with her free hand and placed it on top of his, which was resting on his thigh.

He stared at her hand for a moment, before turning his hand over and squeezing hers. She was warm, and so tempting, and he was so married. "I'm not sure," he sighed, being honest.

Samantha smiled at him. "I'm here for you." She said it out aloud without thinking, and quickly moved her hand back onto the steering wheel.

He managed a small smile back, watching her, as he thought about what just happened. But his feelings about the case hadn't gone away while he was brooding. He needed something; he just didn't quite want to recognize what it was.

They drove on for a few miles in silence. Samantha tried to concentrate on the road and not on the man seated next to her. It was difficult. His presence was always hard to ignore, and getting harder to ignore by the second. _He just doesn't know how he affects me_.

Jack indicated a bright motel sign ahead. "Pull in there."

_Good idea_, thought Samantha. _I could collapse right now_. She pulled into the car park, turned off the engine and sat, expectantly.

Jack was looking out the side window at the reception, lost in thought. _If I've read this wrong…_

"Jack?" she prompted.

"I think we should stay here tonight," he stated.

"Yeah," she agreed, looking around. "We've done a lot of driving today."

Quietly, he said, "I need to know something." He couldn't look at her, only at the dashboard. _How can I put this? She'll probably shoot me…_

Samantha froze. Any fatigue she felt just evaporated. _Oh Christ_. The car suddenly became very claustrophobic.

He took a deep breathe, and plunged into the abyss. "I'm your boss; I can't initiate this, so I'm leaving the decision up to you. If I use the department's credit card, we'll get two rooms… If I use cash…we'll get one room." He looked at her now, his eyes intensely searching hers. "It's your call, Sam."

He thought he might pass out there and then. _What the hell am I doing?_

But he knew which choice he wanted; he just hoped she would want it too. God, he needed her tonight. He couldn't have misunderstood her by now.

She met his stare. _My call_…

Heart suddenly hammering, she made her decision. "Cash it is, then."

xx--

And here they were, sprawled on the bed, both lost in their own thoughts.

Jack was feeling a strange mixture of emotions, with guilt and excitement uppermost. Guilt about his family. Excitement at the dormant feelings Samantha had aroused in him. Guilt that he was so unhappy with his wife and their marriage that it had come to this. A different kind of guilt at the frantic, rough sex he and Samantha just had. Excitement that she had certainly seemed to have enjoyed it.

Did he regret any of it?

No.

He turned his head to look at her, taking in her golden hair, fanned out on the pillow and wondered what she was thinking.

Samantha in turn looked over at him, and saw the small frown between his brows she knew so well. _This is it, this is the part where he says he's sorry, and we shouldn't have done this, and that's it, see you at work Agent Spade…_ _Just great…_

He surprised her by moving over and against her side, reaching out his hand to lightly brush his fingertips along her cheek and down her jaw. He was looking at her with such tenderness and warmth that she knew she shouldn't have been concerned.

"Jack…" she began, but he silenced her with a delicate kiss, which gradually deepened. She inwardly sighed as she brought her hand up to nape of his neck, her fingertips finding his hair.

He wanted her again, definitely, but this time as it should have been, -slowly, intensely, with caresses and sighs, lingering touches. He would show her how he wanted it to be with her. He didn't know quite what would happen after tonight, but he knew he didn't want morning to come. He had to let her know how he felt about her, and if he couldn't articulate it in words right now, he could certainly do so with actions.

This wasn't going to be for one night, he knew that much.

And she knew it too.

xx--

August ended with Forensics not able to find anything to conclusively target Steve Emerson. The car had been shared; his hair, clothing fibers, and fingerprints were everywhere. The scene had been compromised by some unseasonal rain and by the excited teenagers that had found the car. The coroner ruled it as suicide. Jack knew enough not to press it; there was nothing tangible to go on. He put the file away, thinking to return to it in the future, as was his way in that type of case.

Then 9/11 happened, and there were so many, many missing people. Jack and Samantha's affair intensified if anything; the long and often futile hours coupled together with the chance of life's fragile state ending prematurely threw them together more than they expected. The seeds of Jack's guilt regarding his family also started to grow, inexorably.

And Julie Emerson's case went further down the pile.

xx--


	5. Legwork

xx--

_Me too…_

Jack looked over at Samantha. She was already looking at him. The look they shared took them back… to when words weren't needed, to when they'd shared an understanding that had gone beyond anything that had gone before. They remembered, their eyes locked, and the memories elicited all the emotions they had experienced together...

Before the affair: flirting, daring, guessing, unsure.

During the affair: knowing, secretive, happy, desirous.

After the affair: regretful, thoughtful, sad, hopeful, longing.

He broke eye contact first, by putting the new picture of Emerson next to an older one already on the whiteboard. Then, avoiding Samantha's gaze, looked at the paperwork. He wasn't sure right now what he'd seen in those beautiful eyes. He was afraid to find out. Afraid of not finding out.

Forcing himself to focus, he cleared his throat, grabbed a pen, and started to tick off a list. "No cash withdrawals, nothing unusual on his home or cell phone calls, no one notices him gone from the office, nothing weird on his computer at home or at work so far as we can tell… I'm impressed; you found all this out by yourself, as well as interviewing Julie Emerson and his office colleagues?"

Samantha shook her head. "I'd like to say so, but we were all working on it until the mayoral case came up. Then I was on my own," she said, a little distractedly. _I wonder…_

Just then Rosa came into the office. "Margaret Emerson called. She had some information about life insurance policies for you," she said, handing Samantha a note. "Also, she found a receipt for a watch repair that her husband was supposed to pick up a few days ago. I've written the name and address down."

Samantha thanked her, and just as Rosa was about to leave, Jack stopped her.

"Could you please ask Mrs. Emerson to come in for an interview? I'd like to meet her."

"I'll do it now," Rosa said, exiting.

"You don't want to see her at her home?"

"No, it didn't raise any flags for you."

"Okay." Samantha scanned the piece of paper. "It seems that Emerson got $500k payment for his first wife's death, but has not taken anything out like that on the second Mrs. Emerson. His policy, however, is still current."

"So, what was his home like, anyway?" Jack asked.

Samantha sat back in her chair. "Quite normal. They moved there when they married in September 2002. He hasn't quite splashed out like some people do when they come into money."

"What's the wife like?"

"Quiet, tidy, part time librarian at Columbia, -almost a cliché. She's a reader. A huge range of titles and topics, books everywhere."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Just then the phone rang, it was Rosa. Margaret Emerson would meet them at 12, and then she apologized as she was needed to team up with Martin in the field.

Samantha shrugged. "Looks like we're on our own, they need her," she explained to Jack.

"So what's the game plan?" he enquired restlessly, itching to get out, aware of the hours that had already passed.

"You wanted to check the firm he works for, and they were going to get his recent work history for me. We can do that, and have a look at the jewelry shop with the watch repair; it's not too far from where he works uptown. Doesn't sound like much of a lead though," she added.

Jack spread out his hands. "Your decision. You're the boss."

Samantha swore she could see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I like that idea," she said wryly. "Can't resist a chance to look at diamonds. Come on, let's go. Jewelry shop first, then his work."

They were again interrupted when Vivian strode into her office. "We're on our way, -there seems to be a media circus brewing," she said, taking her badge and gun out of her desk drawer, in preparation for the day.

"I don't envy you that…" Jack said, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face.

"Aw Jack, and here I thought we'd trade places for it…" She stopped by the door. "We were all hoping to take you out tonight to make up for the non-event last time, okay?"

Samantha bit the inside of her mouth to stop from laughing out loud. _Martin, a non-event… got that right… _She glanced at him hovering in the hallway, talking with Danny and Rosa, and wondered why it was so difficult working with him these days; unlike it had been with Jack. _Martin, you really are a jerk._

Jack nodded, pleased. "Sounds good, but I won't hold my breath, just in case."

"We'll keep in touch," and Vivian left to meet the others. Danny, grinning, gave Jack a mock salute as he went past.

Amused, Jack returned the salute. "Good old Danny, he never changes does he?"

Smiling, Samantha said, "True, and he owes me $20."

They gathered some essentials and left the office.

Jack called the elevator while Samantha retrieved her jacket from the bullpen before joining him to wait. When it finally arrived and the doors opened, Jack resisted the urge to place his hand in the small of her back, to guide her in. He sure as hell wanted to.

xx--

They hit Broadway to go uptown. Samantha was glad of her sensible shoes, the fine weather and Jack's company.

Jack's mood was infectious and upbeat. He knew he hadn't smiled so much for a long time, and he knew a lot of that was due to the blonde by his side.

Samantha laughingly told him to stop looking around, like he'd never been to New York before. He told her he just wanted to overdose on the place, wistfully pointing out that it could be some time before he came back. She hoped it wouldn't be, and kept that thought to herself.

She asked, as their shoulders brushed against other for the tenth time, how he ended up in the Government Fraud department.

Jack sighed. "The exciting world of Domestic Security was a bit more physical than I thought. My knee wasn't up to it, especially early on chasing a suspect. They gave me a physical and decided a sentence to White Collar Crime division was punishment enough. The Government Fraud division is a lot less fulfilling than you'd think."

"Your knee's okay now?" she asked, inadvertently looking down at his leg. She remembered examining that naked knee, Jack had laughed and had told her to quit prodding it…she blinked away the sudden memory.

"I go for a walk at lunchtime," he explained. _Anything to get me out of the office…_

"And how is it in Government Fraud?"

He rolled his eyes. _Dull, unexciting, draining._ "I make do… Enough with the third degree, how's it been for you?" he asked, avoiding some tourists standing slack jawed on the sidewalk.

"How do you mean?" she asked, suddenly feeling defensive.

"Work."

"I make do, too. Vivian's been doing a good job."

Jack scratched his ear. "That's great…" He shouldn't ask it, but he was dying to know. "You've been… seeing anyone?" Casual, but not casual enough.

She pretended to be distracted by a shop window. "I was, but it's over now. It was nothing." There, she just summed up all that time with Martin. Nothing. _I wonder if he'll want to know who._

Jack nodded, not commenting and looking away to hide a small lop-sided grin that appeared on his face. Happy she had found someone; selfishly happy she wasn't with anyone now. _Probably that cop Keller again._

Samantha indicated uptown. "The shop's just further along."

Halfway down the block Jack wondered if he knew where they were going. By the time they were ten feet away he groaned silently. Dawson's, the Jewellers. _Of all the jewelry shops in the world…_

They buzzed to be let in.

Samantha introduced themselves to the manager and explained the purpose of their visit. The manager said she was happy to help, and nodded at Jack, as if in recognition. Jack nodded back.

While the manager searched for the repair packet, Jack checked out the Swiss watches, wondering if he was due a new one or not. He liked his watches; it was a small, guilty pleasure.

A sales assistant approached him just as he was comparing his own watch to the ones on display. "I'm bad with names, but I can usually manage with faces and watches," he said to Jack.

Jack looked up at the young man across the counter, and, glancing at the name badge to refresh his memory, said, "Nice to be recognized Keith; I haven't been here for awhile."

Keith looked thoughtful. "Omega, chronograph and possibly chronometer, right? I don't remember you being a quartz man."

Jack nodded. "Yes, but I think this one's going to need a service soon. I live in Chicago now; can you recommend somewhere to take it? Also, somewhere they also do ring re-sizing."

"I'll find something for you," and Keith set off.

Just then Samantha came over with Emerson's watch. "Ladies, antique, mechanical movement, solid casing in 9 karat English gold, no engraving, cord style bracelet," she rattled off from her notes, handing the watch to Jack. "It needed a thorough clean and service. They rang Emerson late last week to say it was ready. He said he'd pick it up some time this week."

Jack turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. "Looks like late 20s early 30s. Probably his grandmother's or something. Take a pixt photo on your phone and we'll see if his wife recognizes it."

As Samantha was doing so, Keith returned and handed Jack a card with writing on it. "These are some good places to go to." He noticed what Samantha was doing. "Nice little watch that, just needed some care and attention."

Samantha looked at him. "Do you remember the man who brought it in?"

"Not really. He's not one of our regulars, unlike this gentleman with you," he said, indicating Jack with a nod of his head and a smile, "_who_ likes to check out the watches from time to time, and doesn't buy much jewellery." Keith said it like it was a bad thing, blatantly staring at Jack with an arched eyebrow.

Samantha put her phone away and shot Jack an amused look. He was scratching his ear again.

"I wouldn't say that…"

She gave Keith back the watch. They thanked him, and left.

Outside, Jack said, "I've only ever bought one piece of jewellery there." He looked meaningfully at her gold chain, peeking above her white blouse.

Her hand came up to finger the chain, her lips forming a silent O, as she glanced back to the shop.

"You obviously didn't remember the name of the store on the box…" he threw at her lightly, smirking as he had decided to make her feel as uncomfortable as he felt.

xx--

Christmas Eve 2001

She loved it. A delicate chain in 18 karat yellow gold. He'd covertly given it to her in his office when he was sure everyone else was preoccupied.

"Merry Christmas, Sam." His eyes said everything he could not say at work.

He'd agonized for ages. A ring was definitely out of the question. Earrings, -hoops, huggies, studs, drops, it was a nightmare. Bracelets and bangles, -they might get in the way somehow. A watch, -he was fussy enough for himself so he didn't dare hazard a guess for her. A neck chain, -discreet, something with interesting links, something that wouldn't draw too much attention. No pendant, just elegant and simple. He was pleased with his decision.

And so was Samantha. She wasn't used to gifts of jewelry, certainly not tasteful ones, anyway. She'd settled on cufflinks for him, -again, going for discretion and she was hoping to give them to him at her apartment later on, during their own private party.

"I'll see you soon," she quietly confirmed, knowing his family responsibilities, and expecting him anyway.

He nodded. "I'll finish up here; the party's winding down, so maybe 6ish."

She smiled, her eyes full of longing for him. "I'll see you then…" and she discreetly pocketed the flat box before leaving.

He watched her go, knowing this would have to end.

He would have to end it very soon.

But not right now.

It was nearly 5 months of secrets that he could no longer justify or keep. He didn't want to, but he had to. If not for Maria, then definitely for his daughters' sake.

He rubbed his eyes as he leant against the edge of his desk._ Why did everything come at a cost? What price was enough?_ He'd forgotten what it was like to truly love someone the way he loved Samantha, and he loved her enough to let her go, before his guilt ate him up inside completely.

Once, as they'd lain on her bed, she'd asked him what they were doing. He had eventually replied that he didn't know. He should have said something else: _This is us, being in love, and it's wrong and it's wonderful, and it just is, and I wish it would never end. _

But he'd never said those words to her, never would now.

He thought yet again about coming clean with Maria. He'd be damned one way or another. Yet another conversation to dread. Again he wondered if she suspected anything.

Not knowing what to do in his office, and with nothing to sign off, he decided to go back to the bullpen to enjoy some festive spirit before quietly slipping out. He could see Samantha gathering her things, saying her goodbyes. She was leaving the party early so she could get herself and her apartment ready. For him.

He hoped that he could manage to finish it with Sam and still work together amicably. Strangely he hadn't ever considered it before. He shook his head, and sighed. It would all have to wait.

Now was not the time.

xx--

After the jeweler's, they went crosstown to Emerson's accounting firm.

Samantha was feeling pleased that Jack hadn't bought her the chain all those years ago as a little something tacked on as he shopped for Maria. Not that she hadn't wondered…

Jack was pleased that she was still wearing the chain, like she used to, maybe as a reminder to him of their time together.

His phone rang. Frowning, he took it out. "If this is work…" he muttered, but flipping it open, he saw Maria's i.d. "Maria, morning, how's it going…?"

Samantha moved a little apart from him as he walked further on listening to his wife, then he suddenly stopped and sidestepped up against a shop. She stayed where she was, again pretending to be interested in a window display, but not quite ignoring his conversation.

"…No, I should be back in a day or two… I'm just mid-town with Danny, following some leads..." He glanced over at Samantha as he said the lie. She caught his eye and looked away reproachfully, not wanting to be part of it. "…No, I don't want to see them… For Christ's sake, I'm too busy… Just cancel, okay? This isn't a damn holiday…Why the hell would you think that?... Look…" he said, exasperatedly. "Look, I'll talk to you this evening when I call the girls…Bye."

He pocketed the phone, and then rubbed his hand through his hair, annoyed, as he went to join Samantha. "Maria decided I should go out for dinner tonight with some family friends," he explained. _Why the hell did I just tell her that?_

"Hey, you don't have to tell me anything, really," Samantha said, flatly.

He exhaled deeply. "Probably not." And they resumed walking, the little world they had been creating rudely interrupted.

He felt like hurling his phone onto the road. He was certain Maria was trying to rein him in, and _her_ friends were supposed to keep an eye on him. As if Jack wanted to see them anyway. He couldn't think of anyone he wanted to catch up with while he was in N.Y., at least no-one outside the office now that his father was firmly ensconced in a home in Chicago.

The lie had been necessary. And the scary thing was, again so easy. _You are a coward, Jack Malone, _he remonstrated himself

Samantha didn't really know what to think. But he was here, with her, right now, and Maria was over 800 miles away. That small fact gave her some comfort, somehow.

xx--


	6. Elusivity

**A/N:** Amazing what a Canadian butt kick can do... My thanks as always to Mariel for her excellent suggestions, and for being a speedy beta!

xx--

At the accounting firm, Samantha showed Jack to Steve Emerson's desk. "I'll go and see Emerson's boss and check for anything new," she said, before leaving him for a row of large offices on the far side of the floor.

Jack glanced around at the sea of cubicles that covered the floor, not unlike where he worked in Government Fraud. It was easy to see why you could be missed in a place like this however. The staff were often out, visiting and working at clients' homes and offices. He looked at the desk. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. There was a picture of Emerson and his present wife in a frame, not that Jack was really expecting anything of the first marriage to be on show. Normal.

Seating himself in Emerson's chair, Jack wondered, for the first time ever, if he'd been wrong about Steve Emerson. Maybe his wife _had_ committed suicide. Maybe the portrait Emerson had painted of a depressed woman had been true after all.

Jack also knew that very normal people committed murder all the time, and other normal people were always surprised at that.

Refusing to allow doubt into his mind, he looked in the desk's drawers. Paper clips, pens, papers, files, nothing out of the ordinary. Except for a small framed photo of Julie Emerson, tucked away at the back. He had seen the picture at Emerson's former workplace, during the investigation. It had probably been lying in there, forgotten, for years.

Gazing at the photo, Jack recollected the face of the woman he had watched being zipped into a body bag. It reminded him of why he was in back in the city. Thoughtfully, he returned the picture to its forgotten place in the drawer.

He looked over the cubicle dividers on each side; empty, the occupants obviously out and about. According to Samantha, his fellow employees didn't seem to know him that well. Work was work, and he wasn't a great socializer, preferring to go home at the end of the day.

Jack took the files out of the drawer and was looking thoughtfully at the computer when Samantha clumsily tapped him on the shoulder, while trying to balance two large filing boxes in her arms.

"Still nothing, but I've got files and compact discs of the clients he was working with during the last year. They just finished compiling it all."

"Great -we'll take these as well" Jack said, stashing the files in the top box. "I know you found nothing on the computer, but I think we should take the hard drive with us, see if the techs can retrieve anything. I think his disappearance has something to do with his work." He crouched down to get to the hard drive under the desk and began to disconnect the leads. "You said his home computer was okay?" he asked over his shoulder.

Samantha, quite enjoying the view and grinning despite herself, said, "Yes, they're not great net surfers or emailers, their history was pretty tame, and they hadn't wiped it recently or anything. No flags." She watched Jack crawl backwards, lugging the cumbersome hard drive. "I think we'll grab a cab back to the office, don't you?"

xx--

Before Margaret Emerson arrived, they had things to do. Jack delivered the hard drive to the technicians and watched for a while as they searched through the history and trashed files they might be able to retrieve. Samantha kept herself busy sorting through the clients' files and making some phone calls. Jack rang the police department that looked after the area where Julie Emerson had been found, then faxed them through a photo and description of Emerson's car.

They had accomplished little so far in tangible leads to find Steve Emerson, but they were both confident. They had to be.

They were working together in their easy rhythm back in the office, and enjoying it. For all those years, they always worked well together. It was a good part of their relationship.

Samantha reflected that it was just as though Jack had never left. She found herself stealing glances at him from time to time, wishing he could stay longer, and all the time knowing that he would have to leave eventually, depending on the case. She had to admit to herself that there was no way she was over him. Not now, not then, and probably not ever. She sighed loudly as she found another one of Emerson's clients to phone.

Jack looked over at her, watching her chew on a pen. For his part, he knew that while his home was now in Chicago, there would always be a longing for New York, and all its fascinations. One of those was definitely Samantha Spade. The torch he carried for her had never really gone out, and the flame, while it had dimmed for a short time when he was in Chicago, still burned as brightly as before.

xx--

Just after noon, Samantha, Jack and Margaret Emerson sat together in one of the more user friendly interview rooms. Jack sat a little apart, letting Samantha take the lead. He was studying Margaret Emerson, undecided if she was more worried or perplexed at her husband's disappearance. He'd met her kind before; a normal person, amazed at the strange turn of events that led them to be associated with the F.B.I. Often, he found, it was the innocent that handled it better than the guilty.

Samantha asked the standard questions, whether Emerson had been in contact, and if there was anything else she remembered from her earlier interview. Unfortunately, Margaret Emerson had no answers for them.

"I have nothing to add to what I said before, Agent Spade, I'm sorry. I've been racking my brain…nothing." She shook her head, and looked over at Jack. "You weren't involved yesterday," she stated.

"Agent Taylor was with Agent Spade yesterday. I've been brought in to help now."

"Is my husband a special case?" Margaret asked, surprised.

Jack considered this briefly, licking his lips as he chose his words carefully. "I was involved in the case involving the disappearance of his first wife."

"Steve's told me about Julie, of course," Margaret said, looking down. "It just seemed so sad, poor thing. He was ready to move on when we met, about 8 months later."

Jack nodded, glancing over at Samantha. More than likely.

"What was your fight about, why weren't you talking to him?" he asked, taking over the questioning.

Margaret stared at her interlaced fingers. "It's silly really. I wanted to visit my parents in Connecticut; he wanted me to stay home. They don't like him much, he gets a bit resentful, and doesn't like me visiting them. But they're elderly, so I try to go when I can."

"Do you always stay over?"

She nodded. "A couple of days as a rule. He got moody as usual and I just got tired of it."

"You said he left for work that day."

"Yes, -as usual."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, leaning forward. Something wasn't right here.

"Ye-es," she said hesitantly. Her words said one thing; her face said another.

"How do you know that? You said you weren't talking to him."

"Because he would have gone to work. He always goes to work. There was no reason for him not to," she said stubbornly.

"You spoke to him on the phone that morning?"

"No. But I know he would have gone to work," she reiterated. "I usually do phone him in the morning when I'm away, but during this trip I couldn't be bothered, to tell the truth. Frankly, he really can be a child sometimes and this time I didn't want to speak to him."

"And you didn't phone him the night before?"

She stared at them both defiantly. "I wasn't talking to him. If I'd known he was going to disappear, then maybe I would have."

"So, let me get this straight. He was at work Monday, you left for Connecticut noon Monday and you're _guessing _he went to work on Tuesday morning?" Jack asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Well, yes."

"But you told the F.B.I agents that you had spoken to him."

"Maybe I didn't say it quite like that… It's only a few hours difference, it wouldn't matter that much, surely."

Samantha sat back in her chair, appalled. _What the hell…?_

Frustrated, Jack stood up. "Actually, Mrs. Emerson, it can be a matter of life and death. Please wait here, we'll be back shortly. Sam?" He gestured for her to follow him.

After Samantha shut the door Jack turned on her.

"What the hell happened there?" he demanded.

"I was thinking the same thing. He didn't disappear on his way _to_ work; it was anytime after he left work the previous day. Shit!" she hissed.

"Yeah, and our window has just opened up even further. You basically assumed she spoke to him on Tuesday morning."

"We were talking to her when the call came through about the Mayoral case. Danny took the call…" She rubbed her eyes. "Maybe I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have… She _said_ he was on his way to work when he disappeared," she emphasized.

"And you didn't question that? Bad assumption, Sam, they weren't talking!" Jack said heatedly.

"People fight, say they're not speaking and still catch up on the phone," she threw back at him.

Jack knew that she was referring to himself and Maria, and that she was unfortunately right. He calmed himself down. "Look, get her to sit tight. Give her something to read and I'll meet you in the office."

Samantha nodded. She hated screwing up in front of Jack. Such a stupid mistake, and so unlike her. She went back to Margaret Emerson.

xx--

"Okay. So Martin viewed the security footage that shows Emerson leaving the building Tuesday night," Jack stated, adjusting the timeline on the whiteboard.

"Yes," said Samantha, flicking through Martin's notes. "He walks out with two others, you can see they go off to the left, he goes to the right. The camera is pointed towards the door of the lobby, but there's nothing on the outside looking in, or along the street."

Jack eyed the street map on the desk. "I'd say his parking garage is a good ten to fifteen minute walk from his work." He stabbed his finger on the map. "If he was taken, and it's looking highly likely, then this is where it would be from. Give me your keys; I'll go over to the garage."

She got her keys out of her handbag and handed them over, watching as he pocketed them. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said quietly. There was nothing else to say.

He looked at her, softening. "It happens, and it doesn't help when the person you're interviewing is stubborn as hell and hindering you, either," he said gently, reaching out to touch her arm. "It might have actually helped the case when you think about it," he assured her.

She put her hand over his, enjoying the touch, and managed a small smile. "You better get going." He smiled back, broke the contact and went out the door.

Just as he was going down the corridor, Samantha remembered something. "Jack!" she called out, poking her head around the door, stopping him. "We need to eat; you want me to get something?"

He lifted his hands. "Sure, a sandwich will do. You know what I like."

Samantha nodded. As if she'd ever forget.

xx--

Jack eventually returned with the security videotape from the garage, and left it with the tech guys. Then he sat with Samantha in the break room, and ate his sandwich. "Two cameras, incoming and outgoing," he explained. "They have a tape for each 12 hour time span, but the guy on that particular day hadn't changed the tape over when he should have, so it took a bit longer than usual to find Emerson's car leaving. Seems they roll the tapes over on a monthly basis, re-using them. This would be fine if they refreshed the tapes every year or so. It's an old system and the images are fairly degraded."

"Sounds like fun for the guys." Samantha said, playing with the tear top on her soda can.

"Yeah, don't park your car there I'd say… How is Mrs. Emerson doing?"

"I made her comfortable. Gave her an old copy of the history of the F.B.I. to read -she may never leave."

Jack leaned back in his chair, well fed. "You know, I can't figure Emerson out. If we hadn't been acquainted with him before, I'd say he was the meekest, mildest man in the city, with quite an unexceptional life."

"Got that right, a bean counter and a book worm, it's just too exciting…" Samantha shook her head in disbelief.

Jack laughed, and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "Come on, they should have something for us by now."

xx--

They viewed the cleaned up and refined images, such that they were. Emerson's car went down the ramp, away from the camera, and stopped at the barrier. Emerson then leaned out to swipe his magnetic card, and the barrier went up. The car continued and then turned slightly, halting at the kerb, as he waited for traffic. It stopped there for some time, before pulling out. Emerson could be seen in the driver's seat, but the passenger side was obscured by the side of the garage and the angle the car was on.

"Still damn hard to see what's going on, but I reckon someone got into the car," Jack said, squinting through his glasses over Samantha's shoulder as she sat in front of the monitor.

"Considering there's a gap in the traffic for some time, it must be the reason for him to be there for that long." She glanced over her shoulder. _There's something about him when he wears glasses..._

"Pause it there," Jack said, reaching over Samantha's shoulder to touch the screen. "See, it's like Emerson is leaning over towards the passenger side. He's either talking to or letting someone in the car, before he drives away." He stood up. "We'll send Margaret Emerson home. I was hoping for someone we could actually identify, not some phantom."

xx--

The rest of the afternoon passed in disappointment. The technicians couldn't clean the picture up as much as they would have liked, pointing out that a) the view was fairly blocked and b) this wasn't TV where they seemed to pull miracles out of faded and indistinct images. There was the hint of a shadowy figure in the car on the right hand side, and that was all it was going to be.

There was no sighting of Emerson or his car near or around where Julie Emerson had been found, or anywhere else for that matter. The idea of a guilt-fueled suicide at the scene was then laid to rest. Jack crossed another theory off his list.

So it was down to phone calls and trudging through paperwork –neither of which were Jack or Samantha's idea of a good time.

It was early evening when Samantha finally pushed herself away from the desk. "We're getting nowhere, Jack," she said, throwing her pen down on the desk to make her point. "It's gone cold."

Jack looked at her over a piece of paper. "I know. I thought we'd be closer by now. I'm not the world's greatest money counter, but even I can see that Emerson does his job without too much creative accounting."

"It's not even like they give him the big guns, these are just small accounts and businesses. No one's gone under or been declared bankrupt under his watch. The ones I've talked to have no problems with him."

"Who would take him? Maybe there's a random element here. But he wouldn't have let just anyone into his car."

They were pondering the possibilities when Rosa appeared in the office. "Vivian wanted me to let you know that she needs a rain check for tonight. She and Martin are upstate and Danny's off somewhere following leads. I'm stuck here again and it looking like a long night, so… sorry. I was looking forward to it." She shrugged. "Unless you two want to go out…" she left the question hanging, looking at them both.

"It happens," Jack said. He looked at Samantha. "You want to have a drink?"

Put on the spot, Samantha panicked. "Ah, maybe not tonight, Jack. I've got some stuff to do around my apartment. Catch up on some things," she lied.

Jack tried not to look disappointed. "That's okay. I'll be going through the files anyway," he said, crestfallen.

Rosa nodded, oblivious. "Have a nice night then," and she left them.

Desperate to do something in order to avoid looking at Jack, Sam picked up the files she'd been working on and got up. "I'll take these home."

She felt wretched at her lie.

Jack watched her. _She_ _has her own life. I shouldn't presume anything…_

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning then," he said slowly. "We might think of something we've missed."

Samantha nodded. "Good night," was all she managed before she left.

Jack watched her go, not looking forward to another lonely evening in the city. Even a drink with her, if only for few minutes, would have been nice.

xx--


	7. Something to do

**A/N: **Where would I be without the amazing Mariel? Her beta skillsare pure gold (and her stories are brilliant), my thanks as always... Cheers to all for the reviews, keep them coming. And Trish of Texas? This is for you...

Xx--

Samantha made it home in record time. She threw her keys and files on the kitchen bench and stared at them. _Damn it!_

She shouldn't have left him there alone.

At the very least, she should have had a drink with him.

All the way home she'd wondered why she'd done what she'd done.

Feelings may fade, but they never truly die. Some can be brought back as strong as before. Her feelings for Jack had done just that, and in such a short space of time. It thrilled and frightened her. She had the idea that it might be mutual, and that scared her._ It can't be that easy, not after all these years..._

Confused and deciding to occupy her mind with other things, she took out her collection of take-out menus from a drawer and briefly scanned them. Then the idea of a shower beckoned more strongly than food.

It would give her something to do besides think of Jack.

She wiped her hands over her face, and took a deep breath. A hot shower, hair wash, food, then the files. Not the most exciting Friday night, but it would have to do. Mind made up, she kicked off her shoes on the way to the bathroom.

Xx—

This time, Jack considered biffing his cell phone at the hotel room wall.

He'd rung home and had got the answering machine. Unimpressed, he had then tried Maria's cell but all he had got was her voice mail. He hadn't left a message, wondering what she was doing, and where the girls might be. Maria had known he was going to phone home that evening to speak to them. He tried her cell phone again without luck.

Deeply unhappy, Jack tossed the phone on the bed, and looked around the room.

He wanted to be out with the team. He wanted to be out with Samantha; just her company would be enough right now. But she had obviously avoided him and he didn't want to dwell on the reasons why.

Desperately needing some distraction and not wanting to re-hash files just yet, Jack considered his options. He flicked through the hotel's in-house movie guide, noting that '_Bad Day at Black Rock_' was on in a while. That sounded good -a bit of classic Spencer Tracy would go down nicely. Then he looked through the room service menu and mini bar list, blanching at the prices. He decided on a quick shower, and then a trip outside for less expensive food. Maybe something involving lots of melted cheese from the usual Italian place the team liked. He headed off to the bathroom, stripping off his tie and shirt on the way.

Later, just as he was throwing a jacket over his t-shirt and jeans, his phone rang.

Maria.

He said he'd rung home and asked, frostily, what she was up to. Matching his tone, she explained there was a flying visit by some New York lawyers and the partners had decided to take them out for dinner. He asked who. She lightly replied it was Bernie and James from Alessandri, Harv--. He cut her off, not caring who they were and asked her why she hadn't mentioned it earlier when they spoke. She said it had all happened quickly in the afternoon; she'd been at court and she was only just phoning him now, as she had some free time. She informed him that the girls were fine and having a sleepover at a school friend's place, and would be back early Saturday afternoon. Jack could hear laughter and glasses chinking in the background of the restaurant she was obviously in. _Whatever_, he thought, powerless and more than a little angry.

There was a knock at the door. "Hang on a second," he said tersely.

Opening the door he found Samantha standing there. She was juggling two pizza boxes, a six pack of beer, files, and a sheepish smile. Jack stared at her, open mouthed, and then remembered his phone call.

"Ah, it's room service… just chicken, some salad… Yes, yes, very healthy," he told Maria as he watched Samantha walk past him into the room. "Enjoy your dinner," he said, a little indifferently, ringing off as he closed the door.

Guessing who he was talking to, and blatantly ignoring it, Samantha opened the boxes. "I've heard Chicago pizzas are pretty good," she said, removing a stash of paper napkins from her hoodie pocket, along with her keys and phone.

Confused at her sudden appearance, Jack recovered. "They can be, but you need a shovel to eat them… I thought you had other things to do tonight?"

"This is more important; we might think of something we missed," she stated and, taking a pizza box, a can of beer and her files, she made herself comfortable on the floor, leaning against the end of the bed. Echoing the office desk from that morning, she spread the paperwork on the carpet. She looked up and found him staring at her; she tipped her head toward the food. "Pizza's getting cold."

Amused and delighted, Jack removed his jacket, and took his phone off the bed, making sure it was off. Definitely no interruptions this time, and the Spencer Tracy movie had no chance.

"Smells good. Thank you," he noted, grabbing the box and a beer.

"I thought you might like your favorite from the old faithful," she said, watching him settle down beside her.

He smiled at her warmly. "You must have read my mind."

Samantha smiled back. She was still trying to reason with herself why she was there. During her shower, she had decided to see Jack. She knew where he was staying, having booked the room at Vivian's request. She also knew that coming to see him was wrong in many ways, and also that he would be leaving soon, perhaps within a day or so. Time was indeed precious, and she wanted to spend it with him. How they spent it was another matter.

She wanted him, pure and simple. It was irrational, but she'd given up on any justification.

Jack wasn't too sure why she had turned up; he hoped it was for more than just the case. He hoped it was for him. For the moment he was glad she was there, which he readily admitted to himself.

He surveyed the paperwork. Work always came first. "Okay, let's start from scratch," he said, opening his beer. "Pass me the case notes…"

Xx—

Some time later, Jack slumped against the end of the bed, drew his legs up, and rested his arms on his knees.

"It's got me beat. I just don't know what the hell's going on." He leaned his head backwards and pinched the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, as if this would help. He was finding it hard to care for this particular missing person.

Samantha idly played with a strand of her hair in thought. "It's obvious it has nothing to do with his work… What about Julie Emerson's parents? I rang her mother the first day. She was a bit confused why I was calling; she thought it was about Julie." She put down her notes. "Perhaps it's worth a visit out to Staten Island, show her the picture of the watch since Margaret didn't know whose it was." In fact Margaret Emerson had never seen it before. She had presumed the receipt she had found was for one of her husband's own watches.

Jack considered this. "Elderly woman kidnaps former son-in-law? Highly doubtful, but it's worth a trip; this trail is so cold it's frozen."

Samantha glanced over at him. "We're not going to give up yet, Jack. You of all people taught me that," she said gently, looking at his profile.

Knowing she was right, he nodded, and sighed deeply. "Time to call it a night," he said, slowly getting to his feet, wincing. They'd been sitting too long.

"Yeah, it's late," Sam agreed.

She took the hand Jack offered her and he pulled her upwards.

And towards him.

Into his arms.

They stared at each other, shocked at the unexpected closeness.

The contact lasted longer than it should have.

Jack didn't know if it was the hopeful look in Samantha's eyes that made him release her, or maybe it was something vestigial in him, something too used to keeping her away.

Their eyes remained locked. The hotel room felt very warm all of a sudden.

"I should get going…" she murmured, moving ever so slightly away from him.

"You should…" Jack said, raspily, not knowing if he meant it as a statement or a question.

Feeling awkward, Samantha turned to retrieve her keys and phone, and then turned back to him. "Okay then."

"Okay," and he watched her as she went to the door and opened it.

"See you tomorrow, 8:30," he called to her, still standing in the same spot, paralysed with indecision.

"See you," she said quietly, and shut the door behind her.

Outside, Samantha turned and stared at the closed door. She sighed deeply. _Some things don't change._

Inside, Jack was also staring at the closed door, knowing what he should do, and knowing what he wanted to do.

It needed to be a quick decision.

He ran the few steps to the door and pulled it open. "Sam!" he called, only to find her standing right in front of him. _Thank God..._

She had been debating with herself whether to knock or not. She had never thrown herself at Jack after they'd finished, but she had been standing there wondering if she should now.

He held his hand out to her as she was reaching out to him and he pulled her back inside, slamming the door shut.

This was the time.

This was the place.

They both knew it.

Both wanted it.

Their mouths and tongues collided with a passionate force that had been years in the making. Their arms and hands wrapped around each other tightly. No escape, even if either tried. He dragged her backwards into the room, until they were by the bed.

He felt so masculine, so familiar, so Jack. She'd missed this. She'd missed him, regardless of everything.

She felt so natural, so intoxicating, so Samantha. He couldn't believe he'd ever let her go, all the while knowing it was for a purpose.

Samantha was first to pull away, breathless.

In a swift movement she pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, then ran her hands in a familiar way over his chest, before pushing him backwards onto the bed. He landed softly, not bothering to hide the grin on his face or the desire in his eyes. She remained standing, surveying her handiwork, and very slowly began to undo the zipper on her hooded sweatshirt.

"Just one thing, Jack," she said softly.

He was silent, watching the zipper's progress.

"No strings." It had to be like that, as protection. She knew she would have to deal with the pain later -she'd done it before. She was beginning to feel like an expert.

"No strings," Jack husked in agreement. Watching as she threw the sweatshirt on the floor, he knew that there was no such thing. He was beyond caring, craving this closeness, this intimacy, with her. Tomorrow and consequences could wait. If she felt better saying it aloud, then so be it. Here he was, 24 hours back in New York, not falling but willingly jumping with her into the abyss again. _Christ, look at her - she's so beautiful…_

Samantha then peeled her tank top off, just as slowly, and discarded it.

Over three and a half years waiting for this.

Then she unfastened her bra, and also dropped it to the floor. She smiled wickedly at the moan that came from the bed.

She hoped he wasn't tired; it was going to be a long night...

Xx--

It was wonderful.

The long foreplay alone nearly killed them both with anticipation.

It was paradise.

He painted her skin with his fingertips, light finger brush strokes that re-acquainted him with her body. Then, when he repeated the exploration with his tongue and lips, Samantha nearly fainted with longing.

It was so easy.

There was no hesitancy or clumsiness; they knew what each other liked. The special, sensitive spots they'd found long ago were still there, even more heightened with the thrill of re-discovery.

It was ecstasy.

Jack had forgotten what sheer bliss was. Immersing himself in her body, her pleasure and her desire, he never wanted to surface.

Just as she was about to come the first time, Samantha reached up and gripped the sides of Jack's face with her hands, forcing it down closer to hers.

"LookatmeJack," she panted breathlessly, wanting him to watch her when it happened.

_Look... look what you do to me… how could you ever give this up?_

She then lost herself totally in the long moment's release of rapture. Screwing her eyes shut, mouth open and gasping, she fell into the sensation, arching her back against him as her mind went far away

Her flushed face and strong spasms were his undoing. He'd been holding off for so long --that most exquisite self-torture possible-- waiting for her waves to claim him and, scarcely aware of anything else except her, he allowed himself to join her.

For the first time in years.

But not the last time that night.

Xx--

Samantha surfaced from sleep to find herself safely cocooned in Jack's arms. She sighed happily, and snuggled against him. She knew this would end in a few hours, as it always did. But this time was different; she didn't know when she'd see him again after the case finished. Chicago may be only a two hour, 800 mile plane trip away, but she'd made him agree with her -no strings.

Running her hand lightly over his forearm, stroking the fine hair, she listened to his even breathing. She glanced at his left hand out of habit and her own breath caught -the wedding band was missing. That was a first -ever. She couldn't see it on her side table and she tried craning her head to check on Jack's side, but she wasn't able to without waking Jack. _When did he take that off? _She wondered why she hadn't noticed, then wondered what it meant. _Best to ignore it for now._

She settled again, enjoying his warm body and closeness, however the slight disturbances finally woke Jack.

"Hmm?" he enquired drowsily, opening his eyes and blinking in the dim light.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep," she whispered, gently rubbing his stomach. She'd always loved touching him when they were in bed together; it had made up for the lack of it at work.

He reached over to pick his watch up from the side table. The glowing hands said 3:34.

"I wasn't sleeping. Merely resting my eyes..." he said, yawning lightly. Then holding her more tightly, enjoying her, he sighed. "Sam… I've missed this... I've missed you."

"Jack..." Samantha warned him softly. "Don't start..." _I've missed you so much…_

He moved, so he could look her fully in the face. "I wanted to tell you, that's all." His eyes gazed at her earnestly. "It's the old saying -don't know what you've got..." He twirled some of her hair around his fingers. "I miss having you in my life." _Like you wouldn't believe, Samantha Spade._

"It's a little hard to arrange these days..." _Why is he doing this to me…?_

Jack smiled sadly, and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. "I know..." He then gently rolled her over so he could spoon. "Let's try and get some real sleep."

Nodding, Samantha pulled his arms more securely around her. She was thoughtful a moment. _Looks like all bets are off, then._ "Jack…" she whispered.

"Mmm?"

"I've missed you too."

She could feel his smile against her shoulder.

Xx--

Morning arrived with Jack deciding an early wake up call for Samantha was needed. She was beginning to seriously doubt the sexual adage that older men gave quality; younger men, quantity. Jack was going for both; she didn't mind at all, and was more than happy to comply.

Later, she enjoyed watching Jack shave, a rare viewing. Jack couldn't stop smiling, in turn enjoying her scrutiny. They knew they didn't have much time left to revel in each other's company before returning to their working lives. Also, they both knew that words were not needed about what had happened in the night.

Picking up the scattered files while Jack put on his cufflinks, Samantha noticed with pleasure they were the ones she'd given him. "I'm glad you're wearing those," she commented.

He admired them. "Strangely enough, they're my favorite ones. You sure you don't want to go back to your apartment before the office? Change clothes?" he asked.

She looked down at what she was wearing. "I've got some bits and pieces at the office. I might leave the jeans on today though."

Jack liked that idea. "It's Saturday, I might go casual myself," he mused, and, removing his tie, he went to hang it up.

As they were back in their old intimate ways, albeit for a short time, Samantha had decided during the night to come clean with Jack. She'd already admitted how much she missed him. This was the next logical step in her eyes. Honesty was the best policy.

"Jack, I want to tell you something."

He turned to her expectantly, an enquiring look and a smile on his face.

Then, knowing he wouldn't mind, she told him about Martin.

Xx--


	8. Some Things Are Best Left

**A/N:** Thanks for the great reviews, it keeps me going and always appreciated!... Thanks to lovely Mariel and her excellent advice on fiddley bits, and to Inken, for being supportive... So, without further ado...

* * *

Xx--

"Martin...?" Jack asked, confused.

"Martin Fitzgerald?" This time in disbelief. Louder.

"Fucking MARTIN?" he practically roared.

Samantha blinked. This wasn't going as well as expected. She folded her arms defensively. "Do you mean what I did, or badly describing him?"

"Him? For Christ's sake, Sam -_Martin_? What the hell were you thinking?" he threw at her, eyes blinking rapidly as he spoke.

An angry Jack was always impressive, but a jealous, angry Jack was something new. She'd always wondered how he'd react if he found out, and here it was, in all its eye blazing fury.

"What was _I_ thinking?" she threw back. "What the hell do you think? You went to Chicago and he was here. Fuck _you,_ Jack!"

"So when did this...this-" he threw a hand in the air, "thing actually begin? While I was still here? Afterwards?"

She was silent a moment, choosing to look away. "The night you left, actually," she said, aiming to hurt. If he was going to play this game, then so was she, dismayed at how suddenly things had changed.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Jack couldn't believe it; he couldn't believe _himself. _If he looked at it objectively, he shouldn't be upset, but combining his feelings for Samantha with last night, and the fact that it was _Martin_, he couldn't stop himself from steamrolling down the path he'd created.

"Why?" she asked. That stopped him in his tracks. "You left me, your job, New York, and now you get all possessive. Get real, Jack! What right do you have anymore?" she said, punctuating her words with finger jabs in the air. "And what the hell's wrong with Martin anyway?"_ Shit, why am I defending him?_

Jack placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "Because... because he's-" _Because he's a nice, young guy, and everything I'm not; he's that prick Victor's son; he wears pink shirts for chrissake; I've worked with him, mentored him, and you're mine... _"…Martin Fitzgerald, that's why! What were you after exactly -summers in the Hamptons, and winters in Aspen?"

"Look, it was only a few months and he dumped me a few weeks ago, happy?"

"Oh, so I'm the rebound guy now?"

"For God's sake, get over it! That's not what last night was about. It was a mistake, all right?"

"What, last night?" He ran his hand through his hair in disbelief. "Thank you very much-"

Samantha rubbed her temple in frustration. "I meant _Martin_..."

"Oh yeah, several months of mistakes...Of all the men in the city, bloody Martin! Why not that damn Keller again?" He might have understood _that_ decision.

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. Jack strode past her to get. "This is far from finished, Sam," he hoarsely whispered, realizing how loud they'd been. He flung the door open; too angry to wonder who it might be at 8 o'clock in the morning.

Danny was standing there, with two coffees and a brown paper bag. "Caffeine fix and danishes -breakfast of champions." He was horribly bright and cheerful.

Jack, inwardly groaning, managed the smallest smile. "Morning, Danny-"

"Thought I'd walk with you along Chambers Street, we need a catch up..." He brushed past Jack into the hotel room. "C'mon, get your stuff..." he trailed off, surprised at seeing Samantha, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed and a sad frown on her face.

"Hey Danny," she managed, looking at him with hurt eyes.

Danny's trained eye took in the dishevelled bed; a fuming Jack, now looking out the window, clenching and unclenching his jaw like a pulse; and a miserable Samantha. "Do I need to guess what happened?" he asked. Some things were fairly obvious and Danny wasn't stupid. "You both..." He indicated the bed.

Samantha nodded imperceptibly. "And I told him about Martin and I," she said quietly, risking a glance in Jack's direction.

Danny followed suit, putting the food down. It was easy to figure out what Jack thought about _that_. "O-kay…" He didn't know what to do. Try and calm Jack down, or offer support to Samantha. It was a tough call and Danny really wasn't in the mood to play counsellor. "Look, call me a coward, but I'm going to leave you two to it. Just clear the air before you get to work, all right?" He looked at each of them. "All right?" he repeated.

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets as a response. Samantha barely shrugged her shoulders.

Danny decided that was the best he was going to get out of them. "I'll see you later. Enjoy the breakfast." He left, shaking his head. Once on his way, he rang Vivian to say he was going to follow some leads from the previous night and would be in later; any excuse not to be around the bullpen that particular morning. There was going to be a dead man walking.

As the door shut, Samantha looked over at Jack. "Coffee?" she barely whispered, reaching over to get herself one off the table, something to take her mind off the hurtful things that had been said.

He shook his head roughly. Food was the last thing on his mind. He didn't know what to think anymore. He was ashamed at his actions. It didn't make sense, he knew that. He had no right to feel this way, but he did, and he couldn't stop it. "Sam, I just don't understand-"

Abruptly, she stood up. "To hell with this Jack, I'll see you in the office." Picking up her things, she refused to look him in the face.

"Sam..." he began again.

"Stop it..." she raised a hand, still not looking at him. "Just stop it, Jack. All I wanted was just a hint of what we used to have. Just one more night, the last night we never had I suppose... I shouldn't have told you about Martin, but then again, I should never have used him like that."

"You're saying it's my fault," he said, flatly.

"If you want to think that -fine," and she left him staring at her retreating back.

The door slammed shut.

This time there was to be no running after her.

Lost, and suddenly very tired, Jack looked around the room, before finally settling on the side table. His watch and wedding ring were there. Going over, he picked up the watch and put it on while staring at the golden band. He wondered why she didn't ask him about it. Maybe she hadn't noticed. He'd wanted to tell her why he'd taken it off, but there was no point now. He jammed the ring back on his finger, twisting it down and pushing it onto the webbing, causing him some pain. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, put his head in his hands and shut his eyes, a victim of his own jealousy.

Xx—

Outside the hotel, Samantha fought back the tears that were threatening to cascade down her cheeks.

They'd had their differences at work, but they'd never fought like that. There had never been a reason to.

He'd hurt her, but they'd worked things out between them. This… this was different. She was amazed at his reaction. It was too late now to change the past; the relationship with Martin, and being foolishly honest with Jack. What was done was done. Jack would just have to deal with it.

She drank the coffee, welcoming the slight burn as she swallowed it.

Xx—

Jack was the last to arrive at Vivian's office, carrying his small suitcase, placing it by his chair as he sat down.

Vivian looked pointedly at it. "Good morning, Jack. Going somewhere?"

"One way or another, I'm going back to Chicago today," he said firmly, purposefully not looking over at Samantha. She wasn't looking at him. He was, however, staring past her at the bullpen.

"But you haven't found Emerson yet."

"It's not looking likely."

"Okay, have it your way, I can't stop you, but I still want you to keep trying before you go. Samantha, you were saying?"

Samantha began to bring Vivian up to speed on the cold trail, and about the impending trip to Staten Island, while Jack kept being distracted.

Vivian noticed. "Jack?"

_There he is. _"Excuse me for a minute," and before anyone could react, he was up and off to the bullpen.

_Oh fuck_, thought Samantha.

Vivian looked at her. "Is there something I need to know? God help me, if you two have been…"

Samantha could only cover her eyes in annoyance. _Christ, could it get any worse…?_

Jack was at the bullpen. "Martin? I need a word," and he indicated the balcony before striding off. Perplexed, Martin obediently followed him along the corridor and had barely shut the door when Jack spun around.

"I know."

Martin looked at him blankly.

Jack filled him in. "About you and…" he said, tipping his head.

Understanding now, Martin chose to remain impassive, and nodded, wondering where this was leading.

Stepping forward, Jack said icily, "What the hell were you thinking?"

Martin raised his eyebrows at that. "Me… you're having a go at me, Jack? What the hell's _your_ problem?" he said, stepping forward until they were a few inches apart.

"I just want to know why, damn it!"

"You left. Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"You're her colleague." It was the best Jack could come up with, knowing how pathetic it sounded.

"And you were her boss, what the hell were _you_ thinking? Damn hypocritical of you!"

Jack was seriously considering punching him, right there and then.

"You want to know why I broke it off, Jack? Because three people in a relationship is one too many, and you know what that's like too, don't you?" They were staring each other down. "And you think it didn't cross my mind, when Samantha and I were in bed together, that she might just be thinking of you?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at that, but held his ground.

Martin then stepped backwards, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Look, this is pointless. It's over, finished. This is crazy Jack -why are you acting all macho all of a-" he paused, putting the puzzle together. He looked in the direction of the bullpen. "Ah, I get it now… One day back in New York and the two of you-"

"Shut the fuck up, Fitzgerald," Jack warned, stepping towards the younger man again.

Martin was shaking his head in disbelief. "You two really are a piece of work, you know that? You actually deserve each other," he said, and began to walk away. "Good luck with it," he flung at Jack over his shoulder.

Jack watched him go, and saw Samantha on the other side of the glass, looking at him with a sad expression on her face.

He hadn't known what good confronting Martin would have done, and now he had his answer: none at all. It hadn't accomplished anything. It certainly hadn't made him feel any better. Turning around, away from Samantha's eyes, he looked out over the city and leaned against the railing. He heard the door open again, and footsteps.

"If you're going to jump, Jack," Vivian said, joining him, "just give me time to clear the traffic."

Jack snorted. "It's not that bad."

"Really? Because you look like crap, and you're acting like an idiot."

Jack said nothing.

"So… you and Samantha again, huh?" He reluctantly nodded. "And you just found out about her and Martin," she stated.

"Did you know?" he rasped, staring at the street below.

"Not for some time… New job, other things on my mind. They were pretty quiet about it. I wasn't exactly going to phone you and mention it, was I?" Vivian, the voice of reason.

He exhaled loudly, shoulders slumped. "I suppose not," he mumbled.

"You left her, Jack. You left us all. You made your decision, and that's the reality of it. You're still married, although if this is an indicator of how things are going..." She shook her head, almost to clear it. "I didn't invite you back here so you could jump into bed with Samantha."

"It wasn't planned." He wasn't sure if he was lying or not.

"Thank God for that. Look, we've got missing people out there; they're our main concern. I'm not giving you advice on your personal life, but just keep it out of work, okay?"

He looked at her ruefully. She knew as well as he did that sometimes it wasn't easy. Deflecting the situation, he said, "We haven't got much of anything to go on. He's been missing since Monday night. We'll check the phone records and credit cards this morning for anything new, then off to Staten."

"Sounds like a fun ride." She put a comforting hand on his upper arm. "I miss you being here Jack, you're a good friend. I just wish we could've had more time to catch up."

"It happens. Another time maybe."

"What's going to happen when you get back home?"

"I... don't know. Something's going to have to change. I just don't know what."

"I'll be staying in touch more."

"So will I." He gestured to the bullpen. "I'll be back in a moment."

She nodded. "Okay."

He looked back over the city, recalling Samantha's sad face through the glass. He knew that look. He'd seen it many times before, usually because he'd caused it.

Xx--

January 2002

The phone rang only once before Samantha picked it up. It was Jack, softly asking her to come into his office.

He'd been closeted in there since early morning. Vivian had said she didn't know why he hadn't come out; catching up on paperwork maybe. Danny had said he didn't know either; probably secret squirrel stuff. Curious, Samantha logged off her computer.

He'd left her late the previous night, gently caressing her throat with kisses before putting on his coat. "See you soon, sweetheart," he'd said, before a final sweep of her lips with his.

She'd snuggled deeper under the covers, hugging the pillow his head had recently been resting on, like she was a schoolgirl again. She felt loved, she felt protected. Knowing she'd see him and be in his company in a few short hours dulled the pain of his leaving every time.

She knocked at the strangely closed door and opened it. She stood in the doorway, and smiled. "Hey. Good morning."

Jack was at his desk. "Come in, Sam." He was quiet, head down, looking at his hands clasped in front of him. Samantha could sense something was wrong. "Shut the door, please." He was like this when he had to break bad news to families.

Samantha did as asked and then sat down. "Is something up?"

He glanced at her briefly, before focussing on his hands again, spreading them out in front of him. He looked like hell. It was only then that Samantha noticed the redness around his eyes, the general rumpled look to him. "Jack, did you stay here… last night?"

He looked up at that, and Samantha's own breath caught; there was an inexplicable sorrow etched on his face. He looked somewhat wildly around the office, anywhere but at her. "Ah…I went home and Maria…I'm sorry, Sam… I can't do this anymore… I've got to think of the girls…"

Her mouth fell open.

Numb.

Blank.

Stunned.

"I came here last night… We'll work things out." His face didn't seem to agree with what he was saying, but she knew he was doing what he had to. She knew he was hurting, as painfully as she was. They had both known it couldn't go on indefinitely.

Samantha's limbs refused to allow her to storm out; she could only sit and stare at the man she loved.

Jack eyes finally settled on her, care and concern on his drained features. "You okay?"

It was her turn to look away. "No." It was barely articulate.

"Do you want to take the day off?"

Knowing she shouldn't, to show him she was tough Sam Spade, she surprised herself by murmuring, "If that's all right." Every woman deserved the right to be lonely and miserable after having her heart broken by the man she loved, no matter how inevitable it was.

She collected herself and managed to stand up. "I'm sorry too, Jack."

He looked forlornly at her. He'd created so much damage in so few words.

"Jack…" she hesitated, her voice breaking. She should say something, put up a fight, show how she felt about this. Of all the places to do this in, he did it here, protected behind his desk. She realized no matter where it was done, she'd feel just as badly, and be hurt just as much. "Jack…I just would have liked one more night with you, as goodbye, rather than… this."

"Me too."

They shared one last look; so much to say, and no more time to say it.

Xx--

Samantha had watched the two men outside. It wasn't hard to guess what the topic of conversation was, even though she only could faintly hear them through the glass.

What a contrast. Martin was certainly good-looking, the all-American boy, every mother's dream date for their daughter. He'd been a fairly good lover; she'd had worse, and God knows she'd had better: Jack. But overall, when all was said and done, Martin didn't hold a candle to the man who had stood confronting him.

Then she watched Vivian talk to him, and then watched him standing there, alone. She was in two minds whether to join him or not. Vivian appeared at her shoulder.

"You want to talk to him?"

Decision made. "He needs to cool down."

"And you need to find Emerson."

Xx--


	9. Staten Island state of mind

**A/N:** Thanks to all for putting up with the wait. Damn the MP for getting in the way of my J/S! This chapter was going to be a lot larger, but I've split it up. My thanks to Mariel for her help (whatever would I do without her...)

**Disclaimer: **Thought I should state again that I don't own the characters from WaT, although I wish I did. The cat in this chapter _was _mine, for many years, and I miss her...

Xx—

The choice to sit with Jack in Vivian's office, or to sit at her desk and endure Rosa's enquiring looks was a tough call, but Samantha chose the latter. Most of the floor knew there had been something going on outside, but what exactly would have to be a mystery. Martin had left with Vivian to check out a promising lead. He had ignored Samantha pointedly, but only slightly more than he'd been ignoring her for the past few weeks. She'd live.

On his return, a doleful Jack said he'd take care of the credit cards if she handled the phone records. She nodded, staring at her computer screen wallpaper, cold shouldering him. He knew enough not to hang around, and trudged to Vivian's office to begin his own enquiries. It didn't take either of them long to find nothing had happened since their last checks, but they were both procrastinating, avoiding the car trip together out to Staten Island.

Wanting to get it over with, Samantha gave in first and picked up the phone.

Xx—

Friday's fine spring day had turned overcast for Saturday, and that was all right with Jack, complementing his mood. It could rain for all he cared.

The front and side windows of the car had never been so minutely examined; both looking anywhere but at the person next to them. Samantha was glad the traffic had been light; they'd get to their destination faster. She certainly didn't feel like breaching the glacier that had formed between them. The whole trip had been full of sticky silence. She shot a quick glance at him, sitting there with his arms folded, willing him to say something, anything.

_Oh, to hell with it. _"You weren't like this with Dr. Fred or Keller," she said, pulling into a suburban street.

He considered not replying, but gave in. "I didn't know them like I know him... Sam, I just... I don't know, I feel like-"

"Your heart's been broken?" Samantha finished for him.

He closed his eyes momentarily, and nodded, hating this and hating what was happening between them.

"Then you know how I've felt all this time." _Each and every time, Jack._

"I thought we were okay -you know, when you helped me pack up." He actually looked towards her this time.

"So good about it I invited Martin into my bed." She caught his wince. "Just because I said it, doesn't mean I meant it."

_Like when I said it was over... _"Are we going to get past this?"

"Does it matter? You'll be off soon," Samantha stated matter-of-factly, scanning the houses.

"It matters a great deal to me," he said quietly. "Last night was-"

"Wrong?" _Just go ahead and admit it, Jack. _

"The best...actually."

Samantha nearly collided into a parked car as she pulled over to the curb. "Jesus Christ, Jack, why the hell do you do this to me? You should never have left."

He shifted in his seat, turning toward her. "Let's face it, if I was still here, there wouldn't have _been_ a last night... I didn't expect you to stay loyal and single for me exactly, but I just can't get past the fact that it was… Martin." At least he wasn't choking on the name anymore.

She glared at him. "Then you'll just have to get over it. Get out."

"What?"

"We're here."

Jack looked about, not really remembering being here four years ago, but obviously Samantha did. "Good memory," he conceded.

"Good check of the map before we left," she retorted. Not bothering to wait for him, she got out of the car.

He watched as she walked around the car and stepped up onto the sidewalk. _Thank God there's always work, _he thought, hauling himself out.

Samantha was knocking on the front door as Jack caught up with her. A woman's voice called for them to please wait, twice. They looked around the porch while some minutes passed, in professional mode.

Fortunately there were lots of plants and flowers that needed inspection.

Finally and thankfully the door opened; they identified themselves to Lucille Calder, who then invited them inside.

"Please sit down, I'm a little slow on my feet these days," she apologised, awkwardly manoeuvring her walking frame to a chair before sitting down across from them.

Jack threw Samantha a look: Not exactly the kidnapping type.

Lucille made herself comfortable with a cushion. "Ah, that's better; my osteo has gotten worse the last few months." A large black and white cat jumped up onto her lap and she flinched a little as it landed. "Floyd, you're such a big lump... So how can I help you both?" she asked, scratching the cat behind the ears.

Samantha began. "Four years ago we were the agents assigned to look into the disappearance of your daughter."

"Yes, you rang the other day, didn't you? I know I remember you both visiting Tom and I." Her eyes lost some of their sparkle and a melancholy expression stole over her face. "My poor Julie, I never thought she'd ever… I still don't understand why… The blow killed my Tom in the end, as if he wasn't weak enough. It's so hard when your own child goes first." She looked down at the loudly purring Floyd. "Why would you want to see me now?" she asked, blinking away some tears.

Jack picked up a box of tissues from a side table and handed it to her. "It appears Steve Emerson has now disappeared," he stated as she dabbed her eyes.

She looked surprised. "You don't think-?"

Jack sat back down. "We can't say at this time. When did you see him last?"

Lucille was thoughtful. "Probably the funeral. Didn't seem to want to know us after that. Married to our daughter for seven years and then that was it. Very disappointing."

"No phone calls? No catching up?" Samantha asked.

She shook her head, thinking. "Tom never mentioned anything. I think there was a Christmas card once, maybe twice. I think he got married again."

"He did, about a year after your daughter died."

Lucille tsked. "Typical man." She smiled sorrowfully at Samantha. "They're all the same, my dear; women grieve, men replace."

Samantha couldn't help but throw a glance at the only man in the room. Jack looked back at her, eyebrow raised; don't include him in _that _analogy, thank you very much. It didn't even apply to his father.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Jack decided to ask to use the bathroom, the time-honoured excuse to snoop around; not that he was expecting to find anything, he just wanted to be out of the room. He was given directions and set off down the hallway, leaving Samantha to it.

Xx--

He soon found himself at the end of the hallway in the kitchen, and quickly scanned it before looking out the windows to the grassy backyard. He frowned at the garage. Built for one car, but with two parked in front of it. An old car, obviously Lucille's who probably didn't drive much, and another, newer model. He knew it wasn't Emerson's by the make and color, but he pursed his lips in thought, making a mental note. Turning around he continued his tour of the house, quietly opening doors. Bedroom, master bedroom, bathroom, sewing room and books, and a basement. The conclusion he came to was that Lucille didn't live alone. He could just see Samantha so he waved, caught her attention, and indicated he was going down into the basement. She nodded imperceptibly while smiling and listening to Lucille, who was explaining that Tom was a saint, and a pity Steve wasn't.

Slowly pushing open the door, he cautiously drew his gun. He flicked the light switch on. A typical basement scene illuminated. He carefully descended the steps, looking around. A very tidy work bench, probably Tom's; a large selection of preserves, although Jack thought Lucille couldn't exactly get down here in a hurry -if at all.

There, behind in the far corner, curled up on a stash of grubby blankets, with eyes shut, bound and gagged, was Steve Emerson. No longer missing.

Ascertaining the rest of the basement was clear first, Jack went over to Emerson, putting his gun away before hunkering down beside the prone form. "Steve... It's okay, I'm F.B.I." Emerson's eyes snapped open. "You may remember me from your wife's case." Emerson nodded his head furiously, a clear look of relief on his grimy face. There was a nasty bruise discoloring his right temple, and two small band aids holding a cut together over his right eye. "But before I untie you, Steve, I want you to ask you a few things about your first wife's death..."

Emerson's eyes grew very wide at that.

Xx--

After Jack went into the basement, Samantha got out her phone. "Tell me, Mrs.Calder-"

"Lucille, please."

"Lucille, do you recognize this?" and she showed the picture of the watch.

"Heavens, aren't phones small these days? Look at this Floyd, aren't they clever! Did you take this picture?"

"Yes, do you recognize the watch?"

"Oh, goodness," Lucille squinted at the screen, "I'll need my glasses; they're over there on the cabinet, if you could be a dear..." Samantha obliged and gave them to her. "Now let's see...Oh! This is my mother's watch!" she said, delighted. "I gave it to Julie to wear for her wedding. I wondered what happened to it. Where is it now?"

"Steve had it cleaned and serviced at a jeweler's."

"I'd like it back, is that possible?" she asked, blinking myopically.

"Well, we need to find Steve first, and then we'll see what we can do," reassured Samantha.

"It's funny, isn't it? Gary was asking about it a while ago. I said if we found it I'd give it to Jules when she was older."

Samantha was momentarily confused. "Gary and Jules are..."

"My son and granddaughter. She was named after Julie."

Rapidly thinking about what she knew about the Calders, and thinking Jack had been gone too long, Samantha said: "Your son wasn't here when his sister died."

"No, he was stationed overseas. He came home for the funeral of course. When Tom passed away he left the Navy and came back to New York, mainly to be with me. He's been living here for a few weeks as he and Lori are separating."

"Would there be any reason for Gary to be in contact with Steve?"

"No, no reason really. He should be back soon," Lucille said, glancing over her glasses at a clock on the mantel. "He went out this morning with the neighbor and his boys to play some baseball."

Samantha suddenly stood up. "I should check on Agent Malone. Is there anything you need, Lucille?"

"Oh, that poor man, was it something he ate?"

"Possibly…" Samantha muttered, heading for the door Jack was last seen at.

Xx--


	10. Answers of a sort

**A/N: **Thanks to the those that have stuck with the story so far. Mariel was _unbelievably _helpful in this chapter, so kudos to her! I'm guessing one more chapter after this one...

Xx--

Moving as cautiously as Jack had, Samantha closed the door behind her and stepped carefully down the basement stairs. Descending, she could hear Jack talking quietly. "Jack?" she called softly, drawing her gun.

"Down behind you. I've found him."

Samantha rounded the bottom of the stairs and discovered that Jack had more than 'found him'. He had Emerson pinned against the wall, hands gripping the front of Emerson's once white shirt, practically nose to nose.

_Here we go. _"Untie him, Jack."

"It's okay; we're having a friendly chat." Jack was using a low tone that Samantha recognized; Emerson should be worried.

Emerson looked beseechingly at Samantha. He was still gagged and breathing heavily through his nostrils.

"This is not the way to handle this," she said firmly, stepping closer.

His eyes never leaving Emerson, Jack said, "I was just pointing out to my friend Steve here that if he doesn't come clean about his first wife's death and his involvement, then I'm going to leave him here like this. And we'll walk away like we were never here, not a word said to anyone and no one the wiser."

Samantha cocked her head, looking at Emerson while she considered this. To hell with the good cop-bad cop routine. "Okay," she said, her voice light and unconcerned.

"Like I said, _Steve_," Jack said menacingly, tightening his hold on Emerson. "I know we thrashed this out years ago, but we couldn't prove it then. I'm hoping you'll come clean because you're a nice guy, and because you want to help us tidy this up. I'm giving you a hell of a better deal than you gave Julie." He shoved Emerson against the wall again to make his point. Emerson groaned in protest. "Am I making myself _clear_?" he emphasized through gritted teeth.

Samantha heard the front door slam shut upstairs. Figuring it was Lucille's son about to make an appearance, she moved near the bottom of the stairs, gun levelled. "Jack…" she warned.

He finally tore his eyes away. "Who are we expecting?" he asked, dropping Emerson not too gently down to the blankets and then drawing his gun.

"Gary Calder, Julie's brother."

Jack exhaled deeply. "Must be our car phantom." He looked down at Emerson. "You stay put."

It hadn't taken long for Lucille to inform her son that they had visitors, as the next moment the basement door flew open and Gary Calder half fell down the stairs, baseball bat in hands. He came to a halt in front of Samantha and her gun.

"I don't think you're going to want to use that, Gary," she warned in a no nonsense voice.

He held the bat threateningly, looking at her, then at Jack, then Emerson. "Shit! How the hell-?"

Samantha hadn't moved. "Put the bat down. You're in enough trouble as it is."

They could hear Lucille yelling for Gary above. He looked back up the stairs. "Aw, shit!" he breathed loudly, still gripping the bat in his hands.

Jack moved a step closer. "Stop and think about it Gary… Two agents with guns versus you and a baseball bat. What do you think the odds are we'll win?"

Calder looked at them both, then at the bat, and reached a decision. "All right..." he said finally, dropping the bat. It rolled towards Samantha, who kicked it under the bench.

"Look, you don't need those," Calder said gesturing toward the guns. "I never wanted to hurt anyone." He wiped his hand over his face. "This all just got out of hand." He paused, hearing Lucille who was obviously making her slow way to the basement door. "It's okay, Mom! Go back to your chair!" he yelled back, hoping she would.

"So would you mind telling us why your former brother-in-law came to be tied up in your basement? This isn't the Ozarks," Jack said, putting away his gun; Samantha followed his lead.

Calder looked over at Emerson, who was almost cowering in the corner. "It wasn't what I planned. It's been a mistake," he said wearily, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs.

Jack had heard that line before. "A costly mistake. Kidnapping's a serious offence."

"Hell, I know that!" Calder said, wiping his sweaty hands on the front of his t-shirt. "I met up with him a couple of years ago, when I came back, after Dad died. He helped me out with some money, not much. I didn't hassle him for any more, okay?" He held up his hands to make his point. "I just wanted him to know we were still around then. Keeping an eye on him."

"Then what?"

"A few months ago Mom and I were going through some pictures, and I saw the watch Julie wore at her wedding. Mom didn't have it, and it wasn't in any of Julie's things he returned to us after the funeral. I figured he must still have it, so I rang him at his work. He said he'd look. I rang him a couple of weeks later and he said he couldn't find it. I didn't believe him." He threw a disparaging glance at Emerson. "So I followed him from his work, pretending to bump into him at the garage. Asked for a lift and asked him about the watch again, he said he definitely didn't have it and things got a little heated... and I don't know… I punched him, knocked him out, and brought him here… Like I said, things got a little out of hand after that." Speech over, he drew a long breath. He seemed relieved in a way.

"And your mother doesn't know?" Samantha asked.

"She can't get down here, plus her hearing's not the best." He glanced back up the stairs. "She did wonder why I took her car out of the garage, as I needed to hide his; I said I was cleaning it out."

Samantha fished her phone out and brought up the photo. "Is this the watch?"

Calder blinked in surprise. "Yes! Where is it now?"

"In a jeweler's. Steve was getting it cleaned and serviced."

Calder glowered at Emerson. "You're a snaky son of a bitch, Steve. Going to give it to your new wife, huh?" He looked back at Jack and Samantha, almost weighing them up. "Look, I don't believe Julie killed herself. If anyone did it, it was him." He indicated Emerson with a tip of his head.

Jack returned the look. "Why do you think that?"

Calder shrugged. "It's what I feel...She wasn't like that, and besides, she sent me a parcel with a letter saying how she was looking forward to seeing me during leave for family Thanksgiving."

"When did she write the letter?

"It was dated a week before she died. I got it just before I left to come back for her funeral."

"Do you still have it?"

Calder nodded. They all turned to look at Emerson, who was doing his best to be invisible.

Jack turned to Samantha. "Sam, can you call for a unit and a medical team? No sirens. Make sure there's a female officer to look after Mrs. Calder."

Already dialling as he spoke, Samantha got to it.

Jack turned to Calder. "We're going to have to take you in." Calder nodded; as if he had any choice. He was looking with distaste at his former brother-in-law.

Jack went over to Emerson and crouched down beside him. "So what do you think, Steve? Shall we call this a family misunderstanding?" Emerson shook his head frantically. "We'll see about that. I'm going to untie you, but when I take the gag off, I want to hear you finally tell the truth about Julie's death." He untied the feet first, then the hands, and finally the gag.

"You crazy son of a bitch, Gary!" Emerson screamed. Face red with rage, he railed at his ex brother-in-law. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he shouted hoarsely. Trying to stand up, he failed, arms flailing as he tried to grasp something to pull himself to his feet with.

Jack caught him. "Steve, that wasn't our deal."

"He's a mad bastard! Christ, I've been here for days!" He pushed Jack away.

"I think he's looked after you quite well, all things considering."

Emerson stared at him in disbelief. "You're as mad as he is!"

"No, I just want to know the facts about Julie."

"She killed herself," Emerson coldly stated.

"Not without your help she didn't. Or maybe you killed her, as Gary thinks." _As we think._

Emerson glared back at Jack, stubborn versus stubborn. Jack had a look on his face that meant he was going to get the truth out of Emerson, one way or another, and Emerson should realize that. This time he wasn't going to get away with anything.

"Don't lie to me this time, Steve," Jack warned.

"He's having a bad day. I wouldn't wind him up any further," Samantha pointed out. Jack shot her a small withering look.

Sagging against the wall, Emerson relented. "I need water. Please."

"There's a water bottle on the bench there," Calder indicated to Jack, who then gave it to Emerson.

After draining the bottle, Emerson took a deep shuddering breath, and after looking at Calder, he turned back to Jack. "Okay… Look, I didn't kill her. That's the honest truth... But the suicide thing -it _was_ initially my idea. She agreed to it though. We were going to do it together. A pact. I… I changed my mind and managed to get out of the car; it was too late for Julie."

Aghast, Samantha stared at him. "That's it?" she asked.

Rubbing his wrists, Emerson shrugged. "It's more complicated than that, but that's the gist of it."

"How long had you planned it? There were no notes."

"I kept the stuff in the trunk, planning it for one day in the future. Maybe before Thanksgiving, maybe after." He shot a quick look at Calder. "We'd decided we were going to do it when it felt right. Then one day we were out driving, and I decided it was time."

Jack's face was impassive as he listened. "You decided, and you decided for Julie too…You could have told us all this years ago," he said, folding his arms.

"It wasn't all my idea. Julie _was_ depressed, I told you that, not as much as I suppose I was maybe… It was easier that way, once I realized what we did. What's more pathetic than me being a failed suicide…?"

Jack remembered thinking that Emerson had used the depression angle a little too strongly four years ago. It was part of the reason he always suspected him. "You were happy to change the story, take the insurance money."

"Well… yeah. Once she was dead, she was dead. I didn't see any harm in having it said she committed suicide, but I did play up the depression part even more after the coroner's verdict. I'm good with money and I wrangled a good sum out of my insurers…" He scratched his lightly bearded chin absently. "Suicide was half way to the truth anyway –I mean she wanted to die; she just thought I was going to die with her. It wasn't my fault I couldn't go through with it." The look on his face showed he thought his action and response to what happened had been perfectly reasonable.

_Damn accountants_. "But why would you both want to kill yourselves?"

Emerson was silent a few moments, flexing his fingers as he contemplated his answer; he gave Calder a sideways look. "Bored with life, jobs… our marriage. Julie just felt she'd missed out on so much. We tried for kids, she didn't want to adopt. She always wanted so much more…" he trailed off, reflecting, before bringing himself back to reality. "Life's not too great these days either, I have to admit…"

Jack threw a glance at Samantha, remembering what she said about the bookworm and the bean counter. She was frowning, obviously unimpressed with Emerson's shallow explanation as well as his lack of repentance. He knew as well as she that this was the best they were probably going to get out of him.

Calder snorted, shaking his head at what Emerson had said. "Who's the crazy bastard now?" he muttered.

"Fuck off, Gary. At least I'm not some screw up like you."

"Hey, just because things didn't work out between Lori and me doesn't mean I want to kill us both! What sort of reason is that?" he asked in bewilderment, finally standing up. "'I'm bored. Think I'll kill myself and talk my wife into it too.' Jesus -that's my sister you're talking about, you asshole!"

Wanting to get this family feud over with and get out, Samantha asked Emerson, "What about the watch?"

For the first time, Emerson actually looked contrite. "Okay, I'm guilty on that. I was going to give it to Margaret."

Jack shook his head. Unbelievable. "You make it sound so rational… but I've had enough. Steve, you come with us. I think we can get you on one or two charges -failing to report a death, wasting our time all those years ago, conspiracy maybe, and the insurance company will want words with you too. Gary, like I said, you'll be taken into custody. Maybe your brother-in-law will ask them to be easy on you." Although from the hateful look in Emerson's eyes towards Calder he doubted that would happen.

He let Samantha lead them up the stairs; she could deal with explaining this little meeting to Lucille. He certainly didn't feel like it.

Xx—

The ride back to the office was quiet. Emerson was in the back of the car -after the medics pronounced him dehydrated but fine- killing any chance of real conversation between Jack and Samantha. But there was an unspoken mutuality between them. Case effectively over, distraction gone, their focus shifted back to themselves.

And what they needed to do next.

Xx—

Reports.

Always something to write or type out. Always something that needed to be signed off. Good cases, bad cases –it didn't matter. There was no way to escape paperwork.

Ensconced at her desk, letting Jack have Vivian's office to himself again, Samantha rubbed her eyes wearily. Her report was nearly finished. They'd found their man which was always a good thing, and a few unanswered questions about Julie Emerson had been laid to rest -if not in the most satisfactory way. There wasn't much more Emerson had wanted to add in his interview. They charged him and sent him on his way. Just like that.

It was mid-afternoon and the rest of the team was still out. From what she gathered from some other agents it wasn't sounding good for their missing person from the Mayor's office.

Getting up from her desk, Samantha decided to grab a coffee and headed off to the break room. As she passed Vivian's office she glanced in, seeing Jack head down in a familiar way typing at the computer. She didn't stop, nor did she ask him if he wanted anything.

Jack knew she'd walked past. His Samantha radar was as acute as ever.

He glanced at his watch, then quickly re-read his report and hit 'print'. He may not have written one of these particular reports in several months, but years of doing them had meant that he could do them quickly and efficiently –if he needed to. Today was one of those days.

Just as Samantha got to the break room, Rosa suddenly appeared, returned from the field, flustered and not happy. Their case had gone very, very badly. Their missing person had been found in a particularly grisly way. Things had been looking so positive earlier on; Vivian, Danny and Martin were handling the aftermath. She wanted to talk, so Samantha sat down with her for awhile, welcoming the distraction, even from Rosa.

Coffee and conversation over with, they got up to leave and, passing Vivian's office, Rosa carried on back to the bullpen as Samantha came to a standstill.

Jack was gone.

She went in for a better look.

His suitcase was gone.

His report was there on Vivian's desk with a small written note on it in his hand.

_Damn him!_

He'd slipped out of the office.

Without saying goodbye.

Samantha marched back to her desk. She sat down at her computer and picked up her phone. She knew what he was up to and where he was going.

_If he thinks he's going to get away with this, he's got another thing coming... _She got to work.

Xx--


	11. Hijacked

**A/N:** Okay, the _next_ chapter will be the last. It was getting quite large, hence the chop. This is just a short one, but trust me, it's all for a good cause... Heaps of flowers for Mariel for her help!

Xx--

It was shortly after 3:30 p.m. when Jack stood in front of the departure board, horrified. _You have got to be kidding me... _

What the hell was wrong with LaGuardia today? It was only a Saturday and yet there were severe delays in all the domestic flight departures. Judging by the hordes of people milling around, he wasn't the only one eager to get away and seriously unhappy at the hold-up.

He waited patiently in line with his pre-booked Sunday night flight ticket, hoping to get an earlier flight, and was rewarded with several stand-bys plus a confirmed seat on a flight rescheduled for ten p.m. It appeared that security concerns and aircraft problems were responsible for the delays. He debated with himself about blatantly abusing his FBI badge to get an earlier seat, but pushed the idea aside. There was no emergency to justify it, and his sense of fairness wouldn't let him bump some other poor person with troubles of their own out of their seat. He sighed. It looked like he had time to kill. Hours and hours of time, in fact.

Locating a seat in the central terminal, he decided to sit down and phone home while keeping an eye on the departure board.

Kate answered but was a little too distracted by Hanna's computer game prowess to be of much use in the conversation department. Asking them if they wanted gifts at least got their interest; a snow globe for Kate, and a t-shirt for Hanna. Something staunchly, symbolically New York. Now they didn't live there, they had become fiercely proud of the city they'd grown up in. They asked when he would be back and he said perhaps later that night, but he was definitely sure he'd be there in the morning. Asking about their sleepover, he settled back into the seat, smiling at their reported antics. He rang off several minutes later, feeling refreshed.

Then he realised that he hadn't asked to speak to Maria.

_Great, something else for her to rant at me about._

It wasn't as if she'd been trying to contact him exactly, either.

Not feeling bothered or guilty in the slightest, Jack set off to do some shopping.

Xx--

Unsurprised at the fact that his first stand-by hadn't come through, Jack sat staring at his newspaper, his eyes glazed. He'd shopped, had a bite to eat and was now just waiting.

And thinking.

Thinking about Samantha, what he'd done, and what he'd said earlier that terrible morning. Sneaking out in the afternoon was not his usual way of handling things either. But he couldn't really face another fight. Not with Samantha. He never wanted to experience that again.

Knowing he was in the wrong, he was still ashamed; he just didn't know how to fix it. Once words were said, you could never take them back. They'd spent a wonderful night together and he'd ruined it.

Maybe an email would suffice. A spineless, modern way to say sorry. Or maybe he could send something by courier; he already had something in mind. A phone call would be better -maybe when he was back in the office on Monday. Maybe all three. He doubted she'd speak to him right now anyway, and she had every right not to.

He was the architect of his own misery, and he did not like it at all.

Just as he pointlessly turned the page of his paper, Jack caught a glimpse of Samantha as she entered the terminal. He watched as she halted in front of the departure board and scanned it closely. Admitting his surprise to himself, he wondered if he should just stay where he was. She was obviously there to find him, and knowing her, it would only be a matter of time. He wondered for a brief moment if he should get up, so she could spot him, or stay where he was. He hesitated. She was still angry –her body language told him that. This personal appearance of hers was not going to be a good thing.

The newspaper made a good cover to hide behind. Slowly, he slunk lower in his seat.

This tactic proved successful for only a few minutes. Then the paper was pushed forcibly away by Samantha's hand. She always could recognize him a mile away.

"Didn't I deserve a good bye?" she demanded, eyes flaming.

"I didn't think you wanted one," Jack threw back at her.

She didn't reply to that, but her eyes dimmed a fraction.

They stared at each other. Then Samantha folded her arms; Jack, his newspaper.

He gave in, sighing wearily. This was just what he'd been trying to avoid. "Delayed flights, overbooked, stand-bys -maybe I'm not meant to leave," he said, trying to put on a light tone.

Nodding her head to effectively feign her innocence, she asked, "What flight are you on?" As if she hadn't know the answer already.

"I managed a ten o'clock, but I'm on stand-by for the flights before then."

_The hell you are. _Samantha hadn't been afraid to use _her_ FBI badge to make sure Jack wouldn't get on any stand-bys. She'd made sure his name was so far down the lists he might as well give up. She hadn't manipulated any flight schedules -she had just made sure he wouldn't be leaving until she'd finished with him. Letting him go on the rescheduled ten p.m. flight was giving her time. She'd grinned when she'd hung up from talking to the airline. Sometimes the job had its perks.

She looked around the busy terminal. "Come on," she said in a commanding tone. "Let's go."

Jack stood. Might as well get this painful matter over with. "Where do you want to go?" he asked, thinking maybe one of the airport bars. Hopefully somewhere public that might make them keep their voices down.

Samantha had guessed he might want that and had made her own plan. "I know a place… You left your number with the ticketing counter?" _As if you'll need it._

"Just in case."

"Come on then," and she began to walk towards the entrance.

Jack frowned, intrigued as to what she was up to this time. He took one last glance at the departure board, then followed her out into the car park, trundling his suitcase behind him.

He knew resisting would be a waste of time.

Xx--


	12. Touch and go

**A/N:** Okay, I've been crying wolf. This is NOT the last chapter afterall! This story just keeps writing itself I swear. I was going to post a chapter a mile long, but thought better of it... Dear patient, wondeful Mariel -she's seen more versions of this chapter than is probably healthy and I've still thrown in some more tweaking. She's a star, she really is... Thanks also to Inken for being there, and thanks to all the thoughtful readers who have stuck with me and those who have taken the time to write reviews...So, on with the show...

* * *

Xx— 

"You know kidnapping's a serious offence." Jack remarked, putting his suitcase and jacket by the hotel room door, in case he needed a quick getaway -possibly from Samantha.

"I think I've heard that before, today sometime…" Samantha voice trailed off as she headed directly for the mini-bar. After throwing her jacket on the bed, she selected whisky for him and bourbon for herself, and immediately set to mixing their drinks.

"You're pretty sure of yourself. You booked this… when?" he inquired, watching her open the small fridge, noting her small overnight bag by the bed.

"Does it really matter? I thought we needed some privacy, and the Marriott is not only handy to the airport but has special rates for government and military personnel," she rattled off, shooting him a glance in the mirror while taking ice out of a tray.

"Is that a fact?" Looking around the room, he hoped it was an extremely special rate. Much nicer than the one he'd been staying in.

"So the website and the helpful young man on reception said." She handed him his glass. "Drink," she ordered. She was in no mood to be trifled with.

He knocked back the entire whisky, ice cubes chinking. He hadn't sat down, and neither had she.

Looking levelly at her, he gestured with his glass. "Go for it."

Leaning against the counter, Samantha eyed him as she took a swig of her bourbon and coke. "I'm so pissed off at you right now I can hardly think straight," she admitted.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to have to do better than that," she said, putting her glass down on the counter beside her.

"I know."

"You had no right to go off like that this morning. I deserve better."

"You certainly do."

"You forget. _You_ chose to leave. _You_ chose your family. _You_ chose what you thought was for the best, and so did I," she reiterated with words from their morning fight.

Jack nodded, looking down at the ice cubes in his glass. "I know and I agree with you."

"You can't make me feel bad for trying to make a life. Trying to move forward…without you…" Voice softening, she moved closer to Jack as she spoke.

He reached out to touch her arm. "I've been acting like an idiot, I know. I'm so damn sorry I can't even find the proper words to say it. I hate fighting with you." _Even more so than with Maria, to tell the truth. _His eyes sought forgiveness from hers.

That look on his face -she could usually forgive him anything.

But not just yet.

"You have to apologise to Martin," she stated.

He blinked at that, and pulled back his hand, as if he'd been burnt. "The hell I will."

"You're being as unfair to him as you are to me, Jack. He may not have your respect anymore, but it's the least you can do for him." She put her hands on her hips to make her point.

"He's a guy -he'll live," Jack said, clenching his jaw, wanting someone else to blame in all this. He folded his arms defensively.

But Samantha was definitely standing her ground this time. After this morning, she knew what to expect. "Do it for me then, it's all I ask."

"No, damn it, I won't."

"What did you just say about acting like an idiot? Are you going for a personal record?"

"I don't care what he thinks about me anymore. He can go to hell for all I care."

Samantha noticed that although Jack was angry, he wasn't making any movement towards the door. She crossed the small distance between them. Laying a hand very gently on his chest, she emphasized her point. "If you can say sorry to me, you can say sorry to him."

They stared at each other.

Looking down into her striking eyes, he wondered what on earth he had been worried about. Suddenly it seemed a small thing she wanted him to do actually, and he really was man enough to handle it.

There was no point in being belligerent. There'd been enough of that today. Too much, and it had all been from him.

All this fighting was beginning to grind him down, and it was all so unnecessary.

Relenting, Jack covered her hand with his. "Okay… if that's what you want. I'll phone him Monday when I'm back. Does that meet with your approval?"

She rewarded him with a warm smile. One problem sorted. "I'd really appreciate that. I know Martin will too." _I've really got to stop defending that jerk…_

Jack returned the smile, feeling better, and relieved as well. "Anything to keep the peace for the team. You still have to work with him."

She looked at the hand on hers; his left hand. Needing to know, but half afraid to ask, she finally mustered the courage to say, "What was with the ring anyway? Last night you took it off…"

He looked down also._ Ah, so she did notice. _Holding up his hand, he flicked the loose ring with his thumb. "Well, it's a little too big after the weight I've lost; I need to re-size it."

Samantha looked disappointed. "Oh…" and she began to pull her hand and herself away.

"No, wait. It was more than that…" Reaching for her hand again and holding it firmly, he drew her close to him. "I wanted last night to be different. I wanted it to be special for you… just you and me and no ties." His thumb gently traced small circles on her hand. "I know you hated me wearing it when we were together, and taking it off…it was something I could do for you. I thought-" He paused, searching for the appropriate words, then continued, "I thought last night might be our last time, and-"

He stopped, remembering her wavering voice when she'd told him, '_I just would have liked_ _one more night with you, as goodbye..._'

Clearing his throat, he finished his thought quietly: "If it was going to be our last time, I wanted it to be with absolutely nothing between us."

"Was it our last night?"

He was thoughtful a moment. "I guess so," he said simply, as much as he didn't want it to be true.

Cautiously, Samantha asked, "So, that's the only reason then?"

"Well..." He released her hand. Looking for something to busy himself, he walked over to make himself another drink in the glass he still clutched. "This trip's made me realise a few things," he finally admitted.

That some things had been a lie.

Although his thoughts had been mainly occupied with Samantha and the case, resentment about Maria was always in the back of his mind. He'd realized that the first night he was back. Their phone calls, as well as lack of them, had made the state of their relationship fairly clear.

He should never have given in to Maria's wishes about the move; he should have played the macho male part and selfishly made them all stay in New York. Maria's job promotion had been at the expense and sacrifice of his soul.

Guilt had made him go to Chicago.

He had admitted to Samantha that they wouldn't have gotten together again if he had remained in New York, working at the department. But at least he would have been happier. Maria would still be unhappy with him whatever he chose to do. She was loving her new job; loving Chicago. He knew, realistically, that she didn't love him anymore. Care perhaps, but the love was gone. The words could quite easily describe himself. They'd drifted apart, for so many, many reasons; the cracking façade could only be repaired so many times before it became a useless exercise.

Distance had shown everything in a different light. He'd known what he'd needed to do all along, but it had taken this trip away to admit it.

Her breath caught in her throat, Samantha wasn't saying anything. She watched silently as he opened another small bottle.

With his attention firmly fixed on his glass on the counter, he said, "When I get back… I'm going to move out."

It wasn't the ideal solution for his family, maybe it hadn't been in the past either, when they had tried to work things out between them.

He was feeling as worn out as his marriage and he just didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

And he knew, in the back of his mind, that Maria had known returning to New York would affect him. The break had done him good, resolved some issues for him, but not what Maria would have wanted. Whether she suspected Samantha would have something to do with that, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter if she did.

At least moving out this time would be on his own terms.

Samantha breathed again. "Is this because of me?"

"Partly, but it's still not working. I needed this time away to figure it out," he said in a voice filled with resignation. Turning to face her at last, she could see that small frown of his again. "Being here has given me a lot to think about."

She knew it wasn't an easy decision for him to make. At least he'd told her in advance this time and hadn't waited for months after the fact to let her know -and he didn't have that damn desk to hide behind this time, either.

Knowing the answer, she still felt she had to clarify: "You'll be staying in Chicago?"

Nodding, he knew he was breaking her heart yet again. "I have to be near my girls," he explained. "And my father… plus I don't think Viv would be likely to give me back my job somehow, not after all this time…"

He watched as Samantha walked over to the bed and sat heavily on its edge.

He knew she would want him back in New York but some things, no matter how much you wanted them, just couldn't happen.

Wouldn't happen.

At least Maria would be pleased about that bitter victory.

_Now it looks like he's going to be free and he's miles away... _"Is that really why you took your ring off? A practice run?" Samantha asked in a flat voice.

"No… Like I said, I did that for you." In spite of the situation, a small smile crept over Jack's lips as something came to mind. "Come to think about it, I won't have to re-size it now." But the smile vanished when he saw her face.

"Yeah -great," Samantha said distractedly, lost in her own thoughts. She had been furious with him, and now she felt drained. She didn't know what she'd expected from him, but she certainly hadn't thought he'd tell her he was leaving Maria.

He had always been good at surprising her.

She looked at him, feeling at a loss. She'd said what she'd wanted to and done what she'd planned after he left in the afternoon.

_Now what? _

In a hushed voice, she said, "It's always been you, Jack –was… is… will be… you know it, and I just don't know what the hell to do about it."

Jack could only look back at her. "Neither do I," he said, in a soft voice tinged with sadness.

The room got very quiet.

"I'm sorry Sam. I know it's not quite what you - or I - want as a happy ending, is it?"

Studying the carpet, Samantha shrugged in a small way. "It wasn't when you left before, either… Maybe you should have let her go to Chicago with the girls and stayed here."

Jack firmly shook his head. "That was never going to happen." He knew he wouldn't be able to handle not having the girls around. "And I can't see you or I flying backwards and forwards across the country on free weekends to see each other, as much as we'd like to."

Inside his head, he desperately wanted to ask her to move to Chicago to be with him.

_Come with me…_

But, seeing the idea as irrational and rather selfish, he shoved it aside. She'd say no anyway, and she had every right to.

Agreeing about the frequent flying, Samantha nodded. The ticket price took care of that.

"You okay?"

She looked up at him.

What could she expect? What _did_ she expect?

"I've been worse." The time they'd had together during this trip, for good and bad, had be seen as a kind of bonus. She supposed it was something to be grateful for, grasping for some sort of reasoning. Any sort would help.

She kept her eyes on him. _Ask me to come with you. _The idea jumped, without warning, into her thoughts. _Just ask me..._

To distract himself from her gaze, Jack looked at his watch. Nearly six forty-five. _So much for stand-bys. _He couldn't leave her now, even if they did call for him.

Suddenly remembering he had something for her, he reached into his shirt pocket. "Here," he said. Going over to her, he put a little navy blue drawstring pouch in her hand. It was stamped _Dawson's, the Jewellers_ in silver.

Samantha stirred herself. "What is it?"

"A little something I picked up for you."

"When did you...?" Samantha tried to think when he could have returned there.

"At the parking garage, while Laurel and Hardy were searching for Emerson's car on the tape. It wasn't far. Keith was very helpful. Seemed to know who I was buying it for."

Samantha managed a slight smile. "I bet." She opened the pouch and a small pearl rolled out, capped in gold, with a small diamond set in the bail.

"I thought you might like something to go on your chain. Let me put it on for you," he gestured towards the mirror by the counter.

She got up from the bed and walked over; pulling her hair aside so Jack could remove the chain.

"Keith has made me promise to tell you not to spray hairspray or perfume on the pearl," he informed her, taking the pearl from her hand. He threaded it onto the chain, and put it back around Samantha's neck. His hands lingered definitely longer than they needed to, brushing against her warm skin. He sensed a slight shiver at his touch, and smiled.

She let her hair fall and he gently fanned it out. Holding her shoulders, he looked at their reflection in the mirror, and then gradually let his fingers wander down the chain to center the pearl. "Beautiful," he said softly, catching her eyes.

Watching his reflection looking at her, Samantha blushed slightly at the attention. "It's lovely, Jack. Thank you," she whispered. She watched as he gently trailed his fingers upwards, over her collarbone, her neck, along her jaw, then he lightly caressed the back of his hand across her cheek.

"Oh, Jack…" He would stop if she wanted him to, she knew that.

But she didn't want to.

Absolutely not.

Some things still needed to be resolved.

His mouth was by her ear; his left hand had snuck around her waist. "Let me make it up to you, Sam…" he whispered huskily.

Sometimes words just weren't enough.

Sometimes, having justified doing this before, it was easy to justify it again.

Yes, he was leaving her once more.

Yes, they would both have to live with the emotional aftermath -again.

And Jack, having voiced his decision, felt a kind of freedom he'd never really experienced before.

"You'll stay for a few more hours," she confirmed, whispering back.

"The 10 p.m. flight will be fine…" As his lips found her neck, she found herself surrendering easily.

No internal rationalization was needed this time for either of them.

Her left hand sought out his. She watched herself find his third finger and easily tug off his wedding band. Loose indeed. Practically lost in her scent and keeping one bemused eye on what she was doing, Jack continued his neck exploration. She leaned forward, placed the ring on the counter and flicked it easily to one side; it landed against the empty mini-bottles, far enough away to ignore.

Gently, Jack pulled her back firmly against him. "Better?" he asked, his hands seeking her shirt buttons, as she reached her hands up and behind to find the back of his neck and hair.

"Oh, definitely," she replied, watching him deftly undoing her shirt, enjoying the sight of his hands undressing her, his hands gliding purposefully across her breasts and skin. She could shut her eyes, revel in the feel of his touch, but the desire to watch was greater.

After her shirt was shrugged off, she turned her head to steal a hungry kiss from him. He broke away, wanting to continue his mission and set to work on the difficult task of removing her jeans. She helped in a small way by kicking off her shoes.

Then there she was.

Clad only in bra, panties and Jack's strong arms.

A fully clothed Jack.

"Now this really isn't fair..." she said, indicating their mirror image.

"Well, it's going to get a lot worse..." Jack murmured, hooking his thumbs into her panties' sides and pulling them down.

Samantha laughed. "You are _so_ going to pay for this..."

If she'd never heard Jack Malone snigger before, she did now as he unfastened her bra. "I'll be kind; you can keep the chain on."

That was something, she thought, watching as he skilfully removed her last piece of clothing. She leaned back into him, looking at their reflection. His dark eyes were concentrating more on her face than her naked body. She felt exposed, but incredibly safe. It was always like that with him.

His left hand cupped her breast firmly, while his right hand slowly crept down her stomach.

Lower and lower.

While happy with the destination sought, Samantha decided to bring some equality to the situation. She turned in his arms, ardently seeking a kiss. Jack's hands roamed over her back and beyond, feeling her naked body pressed against his clothed one.

He had to remind himself that he only had a couple of hours.

Locked in the kiss and the embrace, he slowly walked her backwards the few feet to the bed, and laid her gently down. He knelt over her, one leg between her thighs.

"So…" he said, slowly undoing his top shirt button.

"Mmm?"

Samantha knew he was torturing her just as she'd tortured him the previous night.

"You said I'd pay for this."

Excruciatingly, the second button was undone.

"Yes?" she breathed, mesmerized by his actions.

That third button was taking far too long.

"You want to show me how much?"

Desperately aching for him, she couldn't drag him down on her fast enough.

Xx—

Samantha hadn't moved since she had collapsed, exhausted, on Jack. Her hair was lying in tendrils across his chest and shoulders, and finally recovering, she turned her head to gaze at him. His eyes were closed, his face serene, one hand tenderly stroking her back, the other resting behind his head. A sated man.

"Jack… I want to ask you something…"

"Anything."

"Did you ever stop loving me?"

The stroking slowed and his eyes opened as he thought, concentrating on the ceiling.

He'd never said he loved her.

Ever.

She'd said it to him, late one night, before he'd left to go home. He'd been at a loss, not wanting to commit his feelings at that stage.

When he'd wanted to say it, it had been too late. He'd known that that time in his office, that Christmas when he'd given her the chain.

But she'd always known he had.

He'd just never said the words out loud.

God knows he'd fought it, buried it deeply inside him, especially when he was doing his best for his family. But it hadn't gone away. He realised that was why the idea of Martin grated so hard. He tilted his head to look at her.

"No, I never stopped… I always have."

"Will you tell me now?"

He ran a finger down her cheek. "I love you, Sam."

She sighed happily and crept up to kiss him. "I love you right back," she whispered.

Xx—

Jack finished the phone call at 8.23 p.m. Perched on the edge of the bed, he was staring at his cell phone in disbelief when Samantha returned from the bathroom.

"What did the airline say?" asked Samantha, lying beside him.

He shook his head, incredulous. "I swear there's a conspiracy to keep me here in New York."

_That's it, he knows what I did, and I'm going to hell. _"Why's that?"

He ruffled his hair. "It seems my flight is now delayed until 11.15, which means I won't get back to the house until way after 2 a.m. And _then_ they asked me to give my seat to someone else as the delays are causing all sorts of problems; I can get the 6 a.m. tomorrow if I want." Clearly irritated, he swung his legs back onto the bed and lay down, putting the phone down hard on the side table.

Relieved and genuinely innocent in this case, Samantha asked, "So, you're still taking the flight tonight, then." _Of course he is._

There was a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, I didn't say that exactly, did I?"

"You're staying the night?"

"If you don't mind an early start."

"Another night…" Her eyes glinted at the possibilities.

"Just one thing, though…" he said, rolling over to face her.

Delighted at the news, she looked at him.

"I'm only human, Sam –could we just…"

She raised her eyebrows.

"You know… hold each other tonight?"

She couldn't have adored him more.

Xx—


	13. Loose ends

A/N: Well, here we go. Definately the last chapter. Again, thanks to all that have stuck with the story so far. I honestly didn't think it would be this long, but I've had a great time writing it. A word to all those who need an extra nudge to write and post for the first time, give it a go (just make sure it's J/S, that's all...), you won't regret it, or the addictiveness. And to those out there with unfinished stories -please, we've suffered enough! Post!... A huge southern hemisphere thanks as alway to Mariel, my wonderful beta, an excellent writer,and friend... Thanks to Inken for her encouragement and support... And last, but not least, to my husband, Peter, who may actually read this one day, all my love.

Enough! On with the show...

Xx—

4.17 a.m.

After carefully extricating himself from Samantha's arms, Jack quietly got up, showered, shaved and found his last clean shirt and boxers in his suitcase. He decided on jeans and repacked. He was sitting in the room's chair putting on his shoes when Samantha roused herself.

"Hey," he said gently, when she focussed on him in the dim room. Dishevelled and without make-up, she looked beautiful to him.

He wanted to remember this.

He wanted to remember everything.

"Time to go?" she asked, stifling a small yawn.

Nodding, he got up and sat beside her on the bed. "I must be on my way," he said, smiling, if somewhat sadly. He reached out a hand to brush some stray hair away from her face.

Taking his hand, she kissed his palm before holding it against her cheek. "Give me two minutes to throw some clothes on."

Jack watched as she kicked the sheet off and hauled herself out of the bed. "I'll make sure we get some breakfast at the airport."

Picking up her clothes in front of the mirror, she smiled tiredly at him. "As long as there's coffee involved, anything will do."

Xx--

Early Sunday morning at LaGuardia and the airport was quiet in its own way. Bleary eyed people wandered around, wondering why they were up at that crazy hour. The backlog from the previous night had obviously been dealt with, and looking at the departure board, Jack noted with satisfaction that the 6 a.m. was actually going to leave on time.

He'd be home in the morning just as he'd told his girls, and he hoped they'd thought to pass the message to Maria. He planned on spending the day with his daughters, maybe take them out. And the idea of a long hot bath sounded pretty good. He'd make sure to fit one at some point. He needed one after the weekend's activities.

And avoid Maria where possible. If possible. Just for today.

But he knew that was just wishful thinking.

Glancing at Samantha and thinking of the last few days, he put his suitcase on the conveyor. He and Maria were going to talk. He realized he wasn't dreading it as much as he might have once, now things were clear in his mind.

He smiled at Samantha, glad for these last moments together, as she stood beside him at the check-in counter. They were holding hands, albeit discreetly, in public. It had never happened in New York before, only when they'd been out of town together on a few occasions during their affair. Deciding to leave her car at the hotel, they'd caught a taxi to the airport. Samantha had grabbed Jack's hand in hers as they'd got in, and hadn't let it go since. He liked it. He pulled her closer and squeezed her hand tighter.

Samantha looked back at him, smiling. "It's been an interesting trip, hasn't it?"

"Interesting is one word, yes... I can't see Vivian calling me in to help again any time soon. I've caused enough havoc as it is."

"You and me both," she pointed out. The complicated team dynamics were going to shift yet again. "At least we found Steve Emerson."

"For what it's worth," he said as his boarding pass was issued. His suitcase had been checked and he was ready to go.

Jack looked at his watch. Samantha noticed, cheerfully, that his wedding ring was still absent. "I've got about an hour to kill. Let's go see about some coffee and something to eat."

Finding a café, they sat huddled together in a small booth, not saying much, but making the most of each other's company.

As lovers do.

Xx--

As last times went, Samantha was fairly happy.

She was going to miss him badly, but she was resigned to that fate. Considering she had decided that Jack wasn't going to mess up her life again, he'd managed to do just that. But she felt good. Things had been resolved. Not quite what she wanted, but it felt better than when he had left before.

Now she just had to decide how to move forward.

And how to get it right this time.

They were sitting in the departure area. Samantha had flashed her badge at security to gain access, wanting to spend as long as she could with Jack. She'd never abused her badge so much in her entire career; she wasn't planning on making it a hobby.

Jack saw her smiling to herself. He had his arm around her shoulders. "What?"

She snuggled further into him. "I don't know… How many more last times can we possibly ever have?"

"How many more would you like?" His voice was soft, his eyes gentle.

She was thoughtful a moment. "I'd say as many as I can get. As long as it's with you."

The boarding call came. Jack half sighed, half groaned. "It's time." He stood reluctantly and she followed suit. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her and under her jacket; she did likewise to him.

"Sam…" he breathed into her hair. "I miss you already."

He'd forgotten what a powerful drug for him she was, and he knew he was going to have to go through the withdrawal symptoms.

Just as he knew she would.

"Aren't I supposed to say something like that?"

"Go on then," he said, tenderly kissing her temple.

Muffled against his shirt, she was at a loss. "I don't know. I feel like I'm Bogart and you're Bergman. I'm left here watching you fly off."

Jack laughed lightly. "Bogart never looked as good as you do in a trench coat."

They were then silent, enjoying their last moments of contact.

The boarding call intruded again.

"I really have to go…" he said, and then kissed her in the most loving, caring way Samantha had ever experienced.

She didn't want it to end, but had to pull away, before she completely melted. "You really should."

He smiled that small, lopsided smile of his. "See you sometime?"

"Some day, I suppose."

He gave her one last squeeze in his arms, and turned to go. He was four steps away, before he stopped.

Nothing ventured...

Returning to her, he took both her hands in his, and concentrated on them.

"Come to Chicago," he said, before flicking his hazel eyes up to meet hers.

"Now?"

"Sometime. Soon… I'll sub you a ticket." Then, remembering that Samantha Spade was an independent woman, "Or we can go halves."

"I'll see. Some day."

"Soon."

"Definitely soon."

He smiled a rare wide grin. "Okay."

"Okay."

Another lingering kiss…

And he was gone.

Xx—

Samantha stayed and watched the plane taxi away, feeling like some tragic heroine. She didn't know if he could see her, but it didn't matter. The days ahead looked a little gloomier and oddly hollow with him gone; maybe they had been that way the last five months. She watched the plane fly off for as long as she could, and then left.

She still had a few hours in the hotel room before checking out. There was a Jack-scented pillow to nuzzle against and a decent sized bath that cried out for bubbles.

A good way to begin a Sunday -all things considered.

Xx—

Jack sat up, punched the pillow into shape, and then tried to settle back onto the sofa. He pulled the blanket more tightly around him, cursing the sudden coldness that had greeted him when he had returned to Chicago.

One source was the weather; the other, Maria.

The sofa was more comfy than it looked, but Jack was restless.

The hallway light came on and Robertson padded into the living room, ignoring the fact that his guest may be asleep. "I'm going to make a snack, you want anything?"

Surprised and amused, Jack stared at the older man. "Jesus Al, your wife made the biggest dinner I've ever encountered and you're still hungry?"

Robertson thumped his portly stomach. "Gotta keep my figure somehow… How's the sofa? Sorry we're converting the kids' room into an office, but Jen needed the space now they've finally left."

"It's fine, thanks Al. I appreciate it; I'll start looking for a place tomorrow."

Robertson waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, don't sweat it. You only flew back this morning. Stay the week. Start looking next weekend; take your girls along with you."

Jack considered this. "Sounds like a plan. Sorry about imposing myself."

"Hey, glad to help… But the next time you fly off to New York, none of that 'Robertson can cover for me' bullshit, okay? I had Gianelli riding my ass all Friday."

"I'll cry into my pillow for you."

Robertson laughed, pointing a finger at Jack. "You owe me big time, buddy… And you'll be fine. I believe you're not the first man to be in this situation… See you in the morning," and he shuffled out, leaving Jack to himself.

Jack rolled as best he could onto his side, away from the hall light.

He thought about the fun morning in the park he'd had with Hanna and Kate, and how it had all fallen flat when they'd returned home in the mid-afternoon with Maria waiting for him. He thought about how the reasonable discussion --at least he'd naively hoped it would be reasonable-- with Maria had escalated into a fight. He'd nearly lost it when she'd slapped him across the cheek. Thankfully the girls hadn't seen that happen, but it had been the last straw. Jack had coldly turned around, and picked up his still-unpacked suitcase. Then he'd gone upstairs to calmly pack another suitcase with clean clothes, while Maria had sat fuming downstairs. He couldn't quite admit to feeling a new sense of marital freedom just yet, but he felt an inkling of what might be. When he had finished, he'd gone to find the girls. This was going to be the hardest part.

Telling them that he was 'going away' had been terrible; he never thought he'd have to do it again. He could feel Maria watching him, like a snake. She'd been in a venomous mood the minute he'd walked in the front door that morning. He hadn't known what had set her off this time. She never needed a reason. At least the girls had been happy to see him at breakfast and he'd concentrated his attention on them, before escaping to the park.

Leaving them with her in that vile mood had not been exactly what he'd wanted, either.

He shifted again on the sofa, not wanting to think about it any more.

It had been an exhausting few days and, as sleep finally claimed him, he thought about Samantha, wondering how she was.

Xx—

Monday morning in the bullpen and there were no missing persons to deal with, which was always a good way to begin the week. To make up for the time worked over the weekend, Vivian was going to let the team go after a bit of file tidying.

About 9.30 Samantha overheard Martin taking a phone call. The conversation had started off icily, then it thawed somewhat. She couldn't exactly say it was male bonding at its finest, but Jack had kept his promise. Afterwards, Martin shot her a look that probably would have best translated as 'I know you made him do that.'

Which was fine with her.

Having also overheard it, Danny just smiled, and shook his head as he continued reading a file.

Samantha figured she owed him dinner, at the very least.

Shortly afterwards she received an email from Jack: _Re: Martin. Apology as promised_.

Around five minutes later, she received another email: _Moved out last night_.

He certainly hadn't wasted any time.

She sent back a single worded reply: _Okay_.

Knowing it had been difficult; she hoped he was feeling he'd done the right thing.

Xx--

Jack pushed himself away from the desk, looking away from the anti-trust legislation he had to read. It was as dry and uninteresting as the paper it was printed upon. God, he hated this. This wasn't him. Chicago wasn't him. He glanced over at Robertson, head down pen in hand; this was his field and area of expertise, he enjoyed it, and he had no real ambition. But Jack hated the time he had to spend stuck behind a desk, especially this one.

His eyes rested upon the group photo. He'd moved it from the drawer onto the side of his cubicle; there was no reason to hide it from himself now. Sighing, he thought about the roller coaster ride that had been his trip to New York, two weeks before. He'd only heard from Samantha once since then –the single worded email that didn't really say anything. He wanted to call her and talk about anything and everything. She could read aloud from the phonebook to him; he wouldn't care. Just to hear the sound of her voice.

He didn't know what to do.

It was a very strange state for him to be in.

He picked up the photo of himself and the girls. Things were better. Maria had calmed down, and his visits were more cordial. It was going to work out. They still had to figure out a proper schedule, and the girls needed adjusting, again, to their father not being at home. It had been a good suggestion by Robertson to involve them in the apartment-hunting, and Jack had been lucky to find something fairly fast that the three of them all liked. The fun of decorating the girls' new room gave them all something to focus on, even though the shades of pink Hanna and Kate had chosen were naturally a bit bright for his taste. He was looking forward to having them over soon.

He caught Robertson's eye. "Lunch?"

Robertson nodded. "Give me five to finish this."

Jack nodded back. Returning his gaze to the thick file, he pretended to read some more.

Xx—

Samantha finally managed to pin Danny down to take him out.

She smiled at him as he returned to the table with drinks. They were in a Latin-style bar that Danny knew.

"A mojito for the lady, as requested."

"Thanks, it's been awhile since I had one of these." Looking around, her fingers tapping the table to the music beat, she nodded her approval. "Nice place."

Danny grinned. "I haven't been here for awhile myself, but tonight I thought, why not?" Then he looked at her, suddenly serious.

_Here it comes… _It had taken awhile to be alone with him. Martin always seemed to be near by, or Rosa, who appeared frustrated that no one was telling her what had _really_ been going on.

"Have you spoken to him?"

"Not since he left."

"And that was three weeks ago. You sorted yourselves out, I take it. I didn't really see either of you after… I dropped by the hotel," he said diplomatically. He'd certainly been filled in about the scene he'd avoided at the office –Vivian and Martin had each had their own version to tell.

"Well, you had your missing person; we had ours." She took a sip of her drink. "We worked it out between us," she said, somewhat enigmatically, not just referring to the case.

"I don't understand, I always thought you and Martin were good together."

She frowned as she mashed the mint leaves in her drink with the straw. "It just wasn't going that way. Martin was a mistake."

He looked at her over his club soda, unconvinced. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Samantha emphasized, and then she sighed. "Hindsight is a wonderful thing."

"Vivian figured when he got back that he'd leave Maria."

"He did. The same day."

Impressed, he leaned back in his chair, eying her. "So… what are you going to do?"

She looked at him earnestly. "Get up each morning, go to work, do my job, make a difference."

"Sounds like a quiet life for Samantha Spade."

"It'll do," she said, gazing into her drink, her fingers absently playing with her pearl pendant.

"You miss him," he stated.

She looked at him again, sadly this time.

"Yes… Yes, I do."

Xx--

Late Wednesday afternoon.

Jack and Robertson rolled out of the meeting, heads buzzing with facts and figures about a new investigation. They'd been meeting with agents from the Financial Institution Fraud division for the last 4 hours, and had felt lucky to escape alive.

Jack rubbed his eyes, leaning against the side of the elevator. "Christ, I thought my brain was going to explode. No wonder Gianelli made us go."

"I don't really want to fill him in," Robertson said, looking sideways at Jack.

Jack matched the look with his own. "I'll flip you for it."

"It's a deal." Robertson hit the elevator button for their floor. "So, any luck with the transfer? You're acting a bit restless."

"Since when?'

"Since you came back... what, about a month ago? Since New York –marital problems aside."

"You know I hate Fraud, I've been restless since I got here."

"You need to get out in the field more."

"Not much of a chance of that in this department, is there?"

Robertson reluctantly nodded. "Never needed to draw a gun, I can tell you that." The doors opened and they slowly walked out. "You should go and talk to them again at the MP unit."

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling defeated. "I think they're getting pretty tired of me."

"Still, it's worth a try…" Robertson stopped as he looked ahead. "Oh crap, Gianelli's by our desks. I'm going…" he thought rapidly, "…to grab a coffee." He looked at Jack's bemused expression. "What? Standard FBI avoidance procedure…" he said, lumbering hurriedly away.

Not happy at the territory invasion, Jack went towards to his desk, wondering what Gianelli was up to.

Gianelli looked over at Jack and smiled, beckoning to him. "Jack, you're back!"

Nearly recoiling at the rictus that was a grin on Gianelli's face, Jack briefly considered following Robertson. Or maybe shooting Gianelli. He couldn't decide which would be easier.

But all that went out the window when he arrived at his desk.

There was Samantha, sitting in his chair, an unfathomable look on her face.

He all but collapsed on the floor in surprise.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

He was looking smart, back in his black suit and tie combo.

She looked drop dead stunning in a jacket and short skirt.

"Agent Malone," she said. "Good to see you again."

"Agent Spade," he replied, joining her in the game. "Long time no see."

"Seems Agent Spade has come to visit us, check out the department," Gianelli threw in.

"Really…" Jack wondered how long she'd been suffering his supervisor's company.

"She says she worked with you in New York."

"Yes," was all Jack could manage to say.

Samantha smiled winningly, and Jack knew the world was a better place. "I thought you might like to show me around the Chicago office…"

Jack nodded. "It would be my pleasure." He looked pointedly at his supervisor. "I've got it."

"Sure, take your time," Gianelli said magnanimously, obviously a victim of Samantha's charm. He smiled goofily and left.

Jack turned and sat on the edge of his desk. He needed the support.

"To say I'm stunned would be an understatement," he said quietly, eyes darting momentarily around the office.

"Actually, I'm here to check out the pizzas. I've heard they're pretty good."

"Bring a shovel?"

"It's in my handbag."

They stared at each other.

"I would have met you at the airport."

"Nothing like catching you off guard."

"You did a good job. I can't believe you're here."

"I had some time up my sleeve, and decided to use it." She looked around the office. "Not quite the bullpen."

"No, unfortunately it's not… Where are you staying?" he asked casually.

She raised an eyebrow. "I only flew in about an hour ago. I haven't had time to find anywhere."

"Really…" Jack pretended to look thoughtful. "I think I can help you out there…"

They gazed at each other, smiling conspiratorially.

Robertson returned carrying two cups. "Thought I'd get you one as well, Jack…" He stopped when he saw Jack's company. "Sorry, I didn't realise-"

"Samantha Spade, New York Missing Persons, meet Al Robertson, Chicago Governmental Fraud," Jack said, standing upright. "Al keeps me fairly sane and his wife keeps me fed with food parcels."

"Someone's got to do it. Nice to meet you, Agent Spade," Robertson said, putting down a cup to shake her hand. "You staying long?"

"A few days at least."

"Business or pleasure?"

She glanced at Jack, who was tactfully looking at his shoes, as well as scratching his ear. "A bit of both, I'd say."

Robertson was fairly sure it was more the latter than the former. Correctly figuring out that Samantha was the source of Jack's restlessness, he tore his attention away from her.

"Look, Jack, it's nearly four thirty. I'll handle the Prince of Darkness on the FIF meeting if you want to get away. I won't rat on you."

Jack decided to adopt Robertson as a favorite uncle, there and then. "I owe you again, don't I?"

"Promise you'll bring Samantha over to dinner -when you both come up for air… See you soon," he said, smiling at Samantha as he left for Gianelli's office.

Jack looked down at Samantha, eyebrows raised. "He's pretty sharp, but I thought we were always a bit more discreet."

Swivelling in his chair, Samantha shrugged. "Do we have to be?"

"I don't know -should we be?"

"Forget the office tour, let's go out… and discuss it."

It may have been the way Samantha said the last three words, or the minute way her facial expression changed, but it gave Jack cause for concern.

_Oh shit…_

Xx—

After asking the guard at reception to look after Samantha's suitcase, they set out from the Federal building.

"It's a bit early, but you want to have a drink?" Jack asked, wondering what to do, how to act.

"No. Not just yet." She was checking out the downtown Chicago buildings. "You said you take a walk at lunch, where do you go?"

"Mostly over to Grant Park. You want to go there?"

"Sounds good. I've been sitting in airports and planes for the last few hours. You can show me around."

"A walk it is, then."

They set off into the late, warm day, Jack pointing out various landmarks as they went, keeping the conversation neutral and his hands to himself.

Until he could discover what was going on.

Xx—

"And this," Jack said, gesturing out at the Chicago Harbor, "is Lake Michigan."

Samantha stared out at the boats and the expanse beyond. "Definitely great. Definitely a lake."

They were leaning on the railing, a light breeze caressing their faces. Jack had taken off his tie and jacket in the warmth of the late sun. They were quiet a few moments, contemplating the view.

"I'm glad you're here, Sam," Jack said, hesitantly, glancing at her.

Samantha pushed some hair away from her eyes. "It's nice to be here with you."

"You look great, by the way." He'd have to be blind not to notice, and the way the light was highlighting her hair… He realized she was speaking.

"Thanks. I see you're back in your favorite uniform."

"I realized I actually missed it, after I came back." He paused, watching a gull swoop past. "You'll be staying the weekend?" he then asked, hopeful, despite his current reservations that she would be.

"We'll see…" The Sphinx was more forthcoming than she was. "As long as I won't get in the way"

"No, luckily Maria's got the girls this week. I have them next week. We're trying it out."

"Is it working?"

"Surprisingly, yes -so far. But the costs of after-school care and baby sitters are a bit daunting. Furnishing the apartment was scary enough." He was still wondering why the girls had insisted on bunk beds –and why he'd given in to their demands.

"It's okay, you don't have to help pay for my ticket."

He blinked. "That wasn't my point. Freedom has its price, and if your soon-to-be ex-wife is a lawyer…"

"Ouch."

"Big time." He looked over at her. "So, you badly wanted to see Chicago?" he fished, wanting to find out what was going on.

Looking down at her hands, she said simply, "I missed you."

"A phone call's cheaper, and less of an ambush."

A sly smile appeared on her lips. "But not as much fun."

"No, I'll give you that. I might be able to get over to New York in a few months." It was the best he could probably manage, current situation and time considered.

"That's not good enough," Samantha said quietly.

"Sorry?" He turned towards her.

"It won't do, Jack." She was still examining her hands, not looking at him.

"I don't quite get your meaning." _That's it. Looks like this really _will_ be our last time… _

"I didn't come here just to spend time with you."

"Oh?" was all he could come out with, confused.

Finally turning to him, she looked him full in the face, her eyes stern with what she was going to say.

He mentally braced himself.

_This is it. She came all this way to dump me._

"I want to move here. I want to be with you."

_Jesus Christ…_

Jack was beginning to doubt he could handle all the surprises Samantha was throwing at him like live grenades. He shook his head vigorously. "No Sam, I can't ask you to do that-"

"You're not. I'm doing this for me."

"Look, you love your job, you have a future there."

It was her turn to shake her head. "What better reason is there to be with you? What sort of future is it, anyway, hoping I'll see you once every few months, if we're lucky?" She leant against the railing, her back to the harbor. "I'd rather be with you, than have my job without you."

"We could still make it work, one way or another…" He wasn't sure how, exactly, but there had to be better options than this.

"We decided we couldn't, remember? Maybe this is our second chance, the other life we couldn't have together in New York."

He was trying hard not to be swayed by her words. Desperately wanting to be with her, he ached for her. Lonely nights were filled with thoughts of her. And now she was willing to give it all up for him. He couldn't let her do it. Yet, as much as he wanted to stop her, every fiber of his being cried out a resounding _yes_. Before giving any response, he hooked his jacket over his shoulder and taking her hand, he started to walk, leading her away from the water towards the road.

They stopped and waited briefly at the pedestrian crossing. Jack was silent until they got to the other side and closer to the fountain.

He unclasped her hand, and found himself concentrating, not on her face, but on her pearl pendant. He had been trying to think of some way to stop her madness. Putting himself down was a good place to start. "Face it Sam -a divorced father of two with alimony looming isn't the greatest catch. You could do better."

She rolled her eyes at that. _As if I didn't try…_

"If it isn't you, Jack, then it's no-one. I've told you that already. What part of this don't you understand?" she said, exasperatedly. _Damn it, I thought he'd be pleased…_

"It's too much… Seriously, I'm not worth it." He looked away, this time focussing on the Buckingham Fountain. There were people milling about, enjoying the water play and the early evening light. He'd brought his daughters here not too long ago. He wondered how they'd get on with Samantha if she were to stay and be in his life... their life.

Samantha folded her arms, defiantly. "I am doing this of my own free will," she spelt out. "You gave up New York, and you love it more than I do."

He shook his head. "This is crazy, Sam. I don't want you to do this." _I want you with me so badly…_

She was silent. After a few moments, Jack risked a look at her face. The look of determination was blatantly obvious.

That stubborn Sam Spade face; he knew it like the back of his own hand.

_Here it comes…_ He knew he didn't have a chance combating whatever she'd say next.

"Deal with it, I'm coming anyway," she said forcefully, effectively closing the subject.

He was still astonished. He hadn't been expecting this whole scenario, and he was dismayed. "You're sure of this," he stated slowly, still not believing she'd do this, either for him or herself, no matter how much he wanted it.

"I've given this a lot of thought over the last month."

She's been doing virtually nothing _but_ thinking.

Since Jack had left, Samantha had spent a lot of her free time sitting at home, trying not to be melancholic and gloomy. Well, so much for resigning herself to her fate and being happy; so much for moving forward. She was young, single. And there she'd been, sitting at home, not wanting to go out, not wanting to meet anyone. It had involved trying to distract herself with TV and DVDs, reading books, housework and even the occasional jog. But her thoughts had always come back to Jack, and what she could do about their situation.

She had to face the facts and admit it to herself; she was miserable.

Something needed to be done.

It had been after her evening out with Danny that she realized what she should do. She'd talked to Vivian, and made discreet inquiries at the Chicago FBI as well as the police department. Not much had come from either, but then she'd decided to be more proactive, mainly with Jack.

Drastic measures needed to be taken.

"Quite a lot of thought, obviously…" said Jack, digesting what she was saying. "I'm still waiting for a place in the Missing Persons unit. You've asked for a transfer?"

"Nothing much so far. But I'm prepared to wait for anything. Or just move here." _Anything to be with you._

"It would be best to wait."

"Yes, but unlike you, I'm not a supervisory agent. You were able to land on your feet easily in Domestic Security, then Fraud. Who knows how long it would be? And Jack…" she put her hand on his arm to emphasise her point. "I'm so tired of waiting…"

_Oh God, you have no idea, Sam…_

Yet again, dealing with Samantha, Jack knew he had to relent; he wanted to. If this was the price she was willing to pay for him, then so be it. He couldn't have loved her more, there and then, standing in the soft light, the warm breeze carrying the fountain spray around them.

"You're sure of this…" he said, reaching out and pulling her closer to him.

"Positive."

"I'll agree to this _only _if you get a transfer first. That's my deal breaker." He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her against him. It felt so right, so perfect.

"Done." Samantha snuck a hand around his waist, sliding it a little into his back pocket.

"Despite what you say, we can wait. There must be training courses or something we can arrange to be on together."

"Governmental Fraud and Missing Persons together? Yeah, right…" She squeezed the hand in his pocket.

He looked at her admonishingly, for what she said and what she was doing, but his voice was gentle. "You're going to be stubborn about this and not change your mind, aren't you?"

As if he wanted her to.

Not a chance in hell.

He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his, marvelling at all aspects of her.

Samantha gazed at him, lovingly, lost in his rugged handsomeness. She could never get enough. "No negotiations."

"You drive a hard bargain," Jack murmured against her lips.

"Mm-hm," was all she managed, as they sealed the deal, in the park downtown, near the fountain.

Finally, together in their new world.

Jack decided Chicago wasn't such a bad place after all.

Their kiss was slow, passionate, consuming.

More than a bit light-headed, Jack pulled away a little. "I wanted to do that the minute I saw you back in the office."

Breathless, and glad for the fine spray cooling her, Samantha could only smile. "Me too…"

Samantha had never been so clear-headed about what she was doing, and the way her life was going to change. No doubts. No pretences.

They hadn't even said they loved each other; they didn't have to.

But…

There was one more thing.

Searching his face, still needing affirmation in the back of her mind, she felt she had to ask, again –for the first time in years:

"What are we doing, Jack?"

His eyes met hers and held.

Jack knew what he had to say this time.

The reply he should have said that had been burning in his mind ever since.

He smiled his lop-sided smile, now confident of where they were going, together.

He'd say it right this time.

Xx--

The End

Another Life

By jjbird

Xx--


End file.
